


everything stays (right where you left it)

by Grassepi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Childhood Friends, Eventual Romance, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Shopping, Slow Burn, Texting, otabek is bad at admitting feelings, yuri is bad at sledding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 32,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grassepi/pseuds/Grassepi
Summary: He feels a little stupid, losing his head so easily like this. After all, it’s not like he has a crush on Yuri.It’s more like being deeply, hopelessly in love with him.They’ve grown up together. Neighbours and best friends and everything in between. Held each other close when everything else fell apart and fought more times than he can remember. The exact moment when Otabek fell so completely and utterly for the pretty Russian boy across the lane is still vivid in his memories though, still makes his heart skip a beat. They’d been so ridiculously young, Otabek only twelve and Yuri only ten, and the older Otabek gets the more silly he feels for having been so completely lost so very quickly. But then, what other option did he have but to fall in the face of all that is Yuri Plisetsky?





	1. Winter

**Author's Note:**

> this was first inspired by [this tumblr post](http://grassepi.tumblr.com/post/165801912824/littlestpersimmon-au-where-theyre-nextdoor), then my tags on it prompted my friend [lia](http://otasucc.tumblr.com/) to encourage me to write this fic, which I've finally gotten around to finishing the first part of! Hope you guys like it <3

**Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** if u get back and i see that u named me some weird shit on ur phone again im gonna delete ur # and never text you again  
**Otabek Altin:** You don’t have the courage, you coward  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** TRY ME BAKA  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** *beka omg  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** o m g  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** LMAO HEY OTABAKA  
**Otabek Altin:** If that’s all you call me during my visit, I’ll delete my number from your phone myself  


* * *

Streetlamps pour lurid yellow light over piles of freshly cottoned snow, a thousand tiny glittering reflections from a thousand tiny snowflakes visible wherever he looks. The sky’s ink black, stars overwritten by a blanket of dark grey clouds and smog from the distant city. The street’s mostly empty, lined with family sized cars on either side; the only odd spot the bright turquoise van that’s certainly decades old. It’s all familiar, yet completely foreign. He hasn’t walked down this sidewalk in months, but he’s walked down it a thousand times. The sights are completely identical to his memories, but the arrival of snow and darkness is abrupt and surprising. He wasn’t here to look on idly as the seasons changed around him, leaves burning in every shade of gold and scarlet and fluttering away in harsh, cutting winds. He wasn’t here to watch the snow fall.

Otabek slows to a halt. Takes in a long, deep breath of crisp winter air and breathes it out slowly. Pretends he’s a dragon for a second as his breath steams in the air, a cloud of white vapour that dissipates almost immediately.

He’s missed this place more than he realized.

“Oi, Baka!”

Jolting out of his nostalgia, Otabek looks up to the two-story house he’s standing in front of. All of the lights are off except for one in the upper left of the house, the window swung wide open and brightness and warmth spilling out into the night. A figure back-lit by the light of his room hangs halfway out the windowsill, smile just barely distinguishable in the shadow cast over him, eyes sparkling nonetheless.

Yuri Plisetsky- arguably the reason Otabek hadn’t realized how much he missed home. It’s hard to miss home when he was able to bring so much of it with him through his phone.

Otabek can only stare for a moment. It’s been months. Yuri hasn’t changed much at all, his silky blonde hair perhaps stretching a little farther past his shoulders. He’s wearing a loose black t-shirt, something Otabek faintly registers as being inappropriate for the weather. He then registers that the reason the t-shirt’s loose is because it’s Otabek’s t-shirt. Cool.

Yuri’s smiling with the kind of joy Otabek usually sees reserved for his cat and grandfather, cheeks rosy with an excited blush, his entire body leaning forward like he’s prepared to jump out the window just to see Otabek a little sooner. Dangerous, but since when has that ever stopped Yuri from getting what he wants?

“I told you,” Otabek smiles, calling up to the window and the boy hanging out of it, “not to call me that.”

* * *

“So, Baka,” Yuri can’t seem to stop smiling, which could seriously hurt his punk rock cred, but Otabek won’t tell anyone. The brilliance of Yuri’s smiles have always been his secret to keep, anyways. “Will you take me out on your bike while you’re here?”

“You know,” Otabek takes a loud sip of his tea, letting the tiger-printed mug thud noisily against the table when he sets it down, “sometimes I feel like you’re just using me for access to my t-shirts and my bike.”

They’re sitting together at Yuri’s kitchen table, both of them bundled up in blankets and Otabek’s bags tossed by the door. He can go home to his family in a bit. For now, they have tea and banter to catch up on. He’d thought the texting was enough, but now that they’re in person it seems like they have a million things to talk and joke about. Maybe his parents are right in saying technology isn’t the right way to communicate; that texting is a cheap substitution for hearing someone's voice and seeing someone’s face light up and shift as they talk. All the minute little details Otabek misses when all they do is text.

Then Otabek remembers snapchat and facetime and returns to the rightful millennial state of acknowledging his phone is one of the most important things in his life.

“No, of course I’m not using you for that!” Yuri says. “I’m using you for your jawline.”

“My jawline?” Otabek repeats, but Yuri’s already barreling on.

“Listen, Baka, we’ve only got three and a half weeks together, less if you count the fact that I’m still in school right now because high school fucking sucks,” Yuri makes a face of disgust that Otabek nods wisely and solemnly at, “I wanna do as much together as we possibly can.”

“I understand. I’ve missed you, too,” Otabek says. A blush blossoms across Yuri’s face immediately, brows furrowing in outrage at the simple honesty in Otabek’s voice, still easily overwhelmed by earnest shows of affection. Still adorable. “But in all seriousness, it’s the middle of winter and my bike’s been collecting dust in the garage for a few months now. I don’t have time to check it out properly to make sure it's safe to ride and the snow and ice isn’t going to melt anytime soon.”

“Lame,” Yuri mutters, trying to hide the scarlet burn across his face by ducking his head into his blanket cocoon further. He’s like a turtle, Otabek thinks, and then immediately snorts. “What? What are you laughing at?”

“You look cute when you’re all bundled up like that,” Otabek says. Yuri’s mouth drops open and his blush rises to cover his entire face up to the roots of his hair, glare sharper than ever as he springs up from his chair to throw his blanket at Otabek.

“What the hell, Baka, you can’t just keep saying things like that!” Yuri had tactically decided to keep hold of one end of the blanket, actually, so it’s more like he’s repeatedly bashing Otabek in the head with the fuzzy black fabric. “I’m not cute, I’m deadly!”

“Ow,” Otabek says obligingly as the blanket comes down on his head for the fifth time. It doesn’t hurt at all, but it’s what Yuri wants to hear, and when has Otabek ever been able to deny Yuri what he wants? “Yes, of course, I was mistaken. You’re very deadly and disgusting to look at. This hurts so much. I think I'm bleeding. On the inside.”

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” Yuri rolls his eyes as he sits back down, carefully resettling himself in his blanket to make sure no skin is exposed to the cold air. “Go back to college, Baka, I’m already tired of you. You won’t even take me out on your bike, so what’s the point of you being here?”

“I guess I was just specifically put on this earth to bother you,” Otabek says, finishing his tea and rising from his chair to wash the mug.

“Hey, don’t bother with that.” Yuri’s quick to jump up and take the mug from Otabek’s hands, setting it down by the sink and leaving it there. Without the blanket hitting him in the face, he can actually see and appreciate the long, bare length of Yuri’s legs. The end of his bright blue shorts are just barely visible under the hem of Otabek’s t-shirt. “I can wash them later.”

“I don’t mind. I like washing dishes,” Otabek objects, following Yuri to the sink and turning on the tap water. “Give me your mug too if you’re done with it.”

“What are you, a perfect housewife?” Yuri looks up at Otabek with disgust written over his face, standing so close now that Otabek can see every individual eyelash as he blinks. They both press up to the sink, Yuri trying to grab the mug from Otabek’s deftly avoiding hands. “This isn’t even your house, step off and let me wash them.”

“If you want to help, get a towel to dry this off,” he nudges Yuri with his hip to get the younger boy to move away, holding the mug high over his head while reaching for the dish soap.

“Oh fuck you, that’s not fair,” Yuri whines as he vainly tries to jump for the mug without knocking it out of Otabek’s hand entirely and smashing it against the kitchen floor, fragments scattered across the wood like miniature landmines. “Stop being tall!”

“I’m not tall,” he says without bothering to look at Yuri, bringing the mug back to the sink so he can scrub it out with the sponge, still dodging Yuri’s grabby little hands. “You’re just short.”

Pain flowers outwards from his shin as Yuri kicks him, which honestly he should have expected and was partially asking for, but he resigns himself to ignoring it. Stubbornly, he keeps rinsing out the mug, even when Yuri kicks him again, a little harder this time.

“Stop ignoring me and give me the mug!” Yuri demands one more time, crowding in against Otabek’s side, burning warm and smelling faintly of vanilla shampoo. Otabek nods and turns to face him.

“Here you go,” he says as he passes the already washed mug into Yuri’s waiting hands. “You can dry it.”

“I hate you, I hate you, you’re the worst person in the entire world,” the smaller boy scowls even as he grabs a towel to dry the mug, throwing meaningless insults at Otabek’s back as he returns to the table.

“Whatever you say,” Otabek replies, cuddling back up in his own blanket at his seat and waiting patiently for Yuri to rejoin him at the table. He lets his eyes fall closed, the background noise of Yuri grumbling fading into nothing in his ears.

He hasn’t actually gone home yet- didn’t even stop in to let his parents know he was here yet, but…

“Oi, Baka, are you planning to fall asleep here or something?” Yuri snipes, though when Otabek opens his eyes, the younger boy is smiling warmly down at him. Despite his tone, he’s obviously utterly content to have Otabek back in his kitchen and drinking his tea.

“I told you not to call me that,” he says for the second time tonight, completely unable to inject any actual scolding into his voice. Completely unable to stop smiling.

Yeah, he’s home.

* * *

**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** come over already!!!!!! arent ur parents bored of u yet????????  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** its been a WHOLE DAY  
**Otabek Altin:** We’re just catching up  
**Otabek Altin:** I’ve missed them, too  
**Otabek Altin:** Did you know my little sister won an award?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** i literally told u about that when it happened  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** wtf baka  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** i cant believe u dont pay attention to my texts OR care about ur sis :\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  
**Otabek Altin:** You definitely didn’t remember to tell me about this  
**Otabek Altin:** It’s for science  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** what about science  
**Otabek Altin:** I have no clue  
**Otabek Altin:** She explained it but I didn’t really get it  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** big strong baka can’t…. Handle…. EQUATIONS  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** baka… SMASH  
**Otabek Altin:** He says, like he didn’t rely on me for math help every year of his high school life  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** math is homophobic and we both know it  
**Otabek Altin:** True  
**Otabek Altin:** Give me a bit longer with my family, though. Then we can hang out  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** yessssssssss

* * *

“Boo, you whore,” Yuri grumbles as his character takes a flying swan dive off the side of the screen. “Shouldn’t you have gotten worse at this game, while I got better?”

“Maybe you should have tried practicing while I was gone,” Otabek says. Smartly, he ducks out of the way in anticipation as Yuri lazily tries to throw a pillow at him. They’re stretched out on Otabek’s bed- or rather, Yuri is stretched out on Otabek’s bed. He’s given the smaller boy all the space he wants, instead sitting on the floor with his shoulders resting against his bedframe. A small, boxy TV sits in front of them, along with a purple gamecube and a littering of games they’d considered before settling on this one. Even if Yuri throws tantrums over Super Smash Bros Melee because he always loses, he always wants to play it. It’s just tradition at this point.

“I did practice,” Yuri protests in vain as he takes another hit and scowls. “You’re just cheating, or something.”

“Blatant lies,” Otabek says. It only takes him a minute more to kick Yuri’s character off the edge again.

“Ugh, let’s play something else already,” Yuri says. He’s gotten fed up even more quickly than usual, tossing his controller on the floor in a huff. “You’re too good at this.”

“Sure,” Otabek says. “Mariokart?”

Which is, naturally, the game that Yuri is far better than Otabek at. It feels nice to choose something that he knows will cheer up the smaller boy, but less nice when he remembers he now has to suffer through Yuri laughing maniacally in joy as he hits Otabek with yet another red shell for the next hour or so.

Mariokart takes more concentration than Smash, at least for Otabek, so he startles a little when something presses into the back of his neck. He doesn’t dare turn around to check what it is, but judging from Yuri’s position sprawled across his bed like a cat stretched out and languishing in the sunlight, it’s the bare skin of Yuri’s calf. Impressively warm.

Otabek rather abruptly plummets off the side of the road, completely losing track of how to play this game. Which buttons are he supposed to press again? He operates vainly off muscle memory for the rest of the course, ears straining not to hear the sounds of the game but to listen to the faint sounds of Yuri humming in pleasure.

He feels a little stupid, losing his head so easily like this. After all, it’s not like he has a crush on Yuri.

It’s more like being deeply, hopelessly in love with him.

They’ve grown up together. Neighbours and best friends and everything in between. Held each other close when everything else fell apart and fought more times than he can remember. The exact moment when Otabek fell so completely and utterly for the pretty Russian boy across the lane is still vivid in his memories though, still makes his heart skip a beat. They’d been so ridiculously young, Otabek only twelve and Yuri only ten, and the older Otabek gets the more silly he feels for having been so completely lost so very quickly. But then, what other option did he have but to fall in the face of all that is Yuri Plisetsky?

The silliest part is that when he fell for Yuri, he hadn’t even known Yuri was his neighbour yet. He hadn’t even known Yuri’s name.

All it had taken was the sight of his emerald green eyes- full of enough fire to burn Otabek up, full of enough fire to keep Otabek warm- and Otabek had been a goner.

And every moment of getting to know him, helping him with math and losing to him in Mariokart, had only made him love Yuri all the more. 

“Baka,” Yuri yawns abruptly, letting his controller fall to the floor with a thud. He presses his face into Otabek’s remaining pillow, words muffled against the fabric. “I’m sleepy. Let’s take a nap.”

“Okay,” Otabek replies mindlessly, robotically. He turns off the gamecube, turns off the TV, and throws the pillow Yuri had thrown at him back at Yuri. The smaller boy makes a vague sound of displeasure and reaches behind him blindly for Otabek, face still pressed into the pillow as he tries to find something to grab onto, eventually finding Otabek’s shirt. Yuri pulls him in with more strength than he expected, and Otabek ends up landing half on top of Yuri. Yelping in surprise, Yuri grabs at Otabek again and drags him over more, practically tossing Otabek where he wants him to go. The bed really isn’t big enough for the two of them, but that’s never stopped a sleepy Yuri from draping himself all over Otabek and passing out for hours on end.

It’s late afternoon and this nap is going to mess up his sleep schedule something awful. Light filters in through the only window, highlighting tiny floating dust motes as they flicker in and out of his vision. His comforter is pulled over the both of them, familiar and smelling like home, and Yuri’s tugging him closer by the neck of his t-shirt. Otabek lets the tension in his body go, lets Yuri use his chest as a pillow, and lets his eyes fall closed. Lets himself fall a little more in love. With Yuri, with this situation, with napping.

Sleep comes easily.

* * *

**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** BAKA BAKA BAKA  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** IT SNOWED AGAIN  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS  
**Otabek Altin:** It means that  
**Otabek Altin:** You have eyes and/or can check the weather channel  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** FUCK NO  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** WE’RE GOING SLEDDING  
**Otabek Altin:** You’re so bad at it though  
**Otabek Altin:** It’s like a skill  
**Otabek Altin:** It’s skillful how bad you are at sledding  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** FUCK YOU IM GREAT AT SLEDDING  
**Otabek Altin:** It’s an anti-skill? Because you’re bad at it. What’s the opposite of a skill? What do you call it when you’re honing how bad you are at something  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** IM GONNA THROW YOU DOWN THE HILL!!!!!!!!!!!  
**Otabek Altin:** Sure, let me just get changed into something warm enough  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** FUCK YESSSSSSS

* * *

“Here,” Otabek places a pair of gloves into Yuri’s bare hands. “You always forget them.”

“No I don’t,” Yuri rolls his eyes, even as he pulls on the gloves, and Otabek doesn’t miss the rising blush on his cheeks. “You just got lucky this time that I forgot mine.”

“Those are yours,” Otabek raises an eyebrow. “You forgot them at my house last year.”

Yuri’s face could probably melt the entire snowbank with how hot it glows then, spluttering around various protests to finally settle on a kind, “fuck you, Baka!”

He looks right in the snow, pale and ethereal. It’s an almost angelic image, with the puffy white coat and halo of golden hair, rosy red cheeks and nose. White snow boots are laced up to his knees, and the black of his flannel leggings and gloves contrast perfectly with the pristine white of the rest of him. Otabek can’t wait to see the black parts of his outfit turn just as white as the rest when they become plastered with snow. Yuri’s going to wipe out so many times today.

They trudge through the snow in peaceful silence after that, Otabek dragging the bright yellow sled behind them. The park around them is blanketed in a dazzling white desert. The sun’s barely risen in the sky, clouds glazed in shades of violet and blue and peach pink.

Finally they arrive at the crest of the hill, armed with their singular sled that can definitely only fit one of them at a time. Otabek would be disappointed about that, except he really doesn’t trust Yuri enough with sledding to want to be in the same sled as him. It’s early enough in the day that no one else is really around, but it’s obvious the hill has been used many times over for sledding in the past weeks. The snow here is well trodden, packed down, and tracks run through it from past sleds.

The hill itself is intimidating, bigger than any other in town- if they hadn’t gone down it so many times as children and turned out fine, Otabek would probably be more nervous right now.

“I’m going first,” Yuri says. He’s grinning, far too excited for someone who’s never once made it down this hill without something going terribly wrong.

“The sled is yours, sire,” Otabek drops the reins of the sled and offers it to Yuri with a sweeping gesture, a little too amused to be completely monotone like he was shooting for.

“You’ll push me off, right?” Yuri plops into the sled, looking up to Otabek for help. He’s far too cute, big green eyes bright with joy and excitement. Otabek is seized by a moment of helplessness, mutely nodding and dragging the sled over to the lip of the hill.

“Ready?” He asks, and Yuri nods. Carefully, Otabek shoves him over the edge of the hill, then stands back to watch.

The yellow beacon that is Yuri slowly gets smaller as Yuri picks up speed, heading down the first third of the hill without a problem. That’s when things go abruptly sideways, almost literally as Yuri magically manages to spin his entire sled around so he’s going down the hill backwards. Otabek doesn’t even know if Yuri realizes he’s yelling- he’s picking up speed even faster now, screaming for his life as he heads into the last incline of the hill, where everything suddenly gets much steeper and icier. Miraculously, even as he screams and slides past the end of the hill, Yuri somehow gets the sled to spin around again so he’s facing forward. Spinning his sled, however, completely kills his speed, so that when he leans forward again, the sled just tilts over and ejects Yuri out of it. Otabek watches the incredibly tiny figure of Yuri fall face first into a pile of snow. There’s a moment of stillness, and then Yuri pops up from the snow. 

The small, golden-haired figure grabs onto the sled and begins the climb up the hill. Otabek sits down and waits for him. When Yuri arrives, faintly panting, caked in snow and red in the face, Otabek smiles up at him.

“That was comedic gold from start to finish,” Otabek informs him.

“I hate you,” Yuri responds. “I was ready to accept death when my sled spun around, and you were just up here laughing at me.”

“Yeah, but now it’s your turn to laugh at me,” Otabek promises warmly, taking the sled from Yuri.

Naturally, nothing bad at all happens during his run. There’s no spinning, no tilting, no falling out of the sled. It’s fun, but not nearly as fun as climbing back up the hill to watch Yuri take his second run at it.

In contrast to his previous run, this time everything goes wrong immediately instead of halfway through. Yuri seems to hold absolutely no control over the sled as he veers rapidly to the left, towards a cluster of bushes instead of the wide open slope, though Otabek can see him pulling on the sled to try and get it back on course. The pulling only makes the sled spin around. Yuri’s screaming again, but this time it’s actual words.

“NOT AGAIN, NOT A-FUCKING-GAIN,” Yuri screams as the sled tilts over and he gets another face full of snow, his yelling abruptly cutting off into the white powder. He didn’t even make it all the way down the hill, so it takes no time at all for him to drag the traitorous yellow sled back up to Otabek.

“You’re really quite talented at that,” Otabek compliments Yuri, who responds with a pointed glare and a middle finger stuck in his face.

“Eat my entire snow-coated ass, Baka,” Yuri huffs, trying to throw the sled reins at him and failing miserably. They hit the snow with a sad little plop. Both of them stare at them for a second, daring the other to pick them up first. Yuri, ever the gentlemen, walks over to them, and then steps over them to sit down somewhere else- all with a smug look sent Otabek’s way. So he picks them up instead, letting Yuri take his probably well deserved break while he, once again, sleds down the entire hill without a hitch.

“I don’t understand how you’re doing that,” Yuri greets him with when Otabek finally makes his way back up to the crest of the hill. He’s making the same expression he does after losing in Smash for the fifth time in a row, except now his hair is soaking wet from the snow melting in it. He looks like a drowned cat, bedraggled and bitter. “No matter how much I try and stay still, the sled always goes in some random ass direction, and then I have to try and pull it back the right way and things start spinning! It’s so stupid!”

“It’s probably in part because you’re smaller than me,” Otabek says, “Maybe I weigh the sled down more, so it follows my weight better.”

Yuri scoffs at that, settling into the sled but not pushing off. “That’s just dumb, little kids sled down this hill perfectly fine all the time, and they’re way smaller than me.”

“Mmm. The other part is probably just that you’re incredibly bad at sledding.” Otabek drags the sled and Yuri over to the crest of the hill, since Yuri’s obviously not doing it himself.

“I’m gonna make it to the bottom this time, just you watch me, Baka,” Yuri promises. There’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before, determination set into the line of his brows. Otabek steps back from the sled, nodding once.

“Just don’t get hurt,” he says. He has absolutely no faith in Yuri to do this.

“Ready?” Yuri sticks his leg out of the front of the sled, ready to push himself off. “3. 2. 1. GO.”

And he kicks at the ground, and the sled moves forward an inch, and nothing else happens.

He wasn’t close enough to the slope of the hill.

Otabek watches Yuri’s expression turn to dumbfounded confusion, and he can’t breathe for the laughter struggling to make it’s way out into the world from his lungs. Yuri will kill him if he laughs. Yuri will kill him if he laughs. Nope, that’s not helping, he’s starting to break composure.

He’s cracking up, and Yuri can tell, spinning around in the sled to glare at him. Black gloved hands turned white with a covering of snow point up at Otabek accusingly, leaving the safety of the sled’s sides. “Shut up, Baka! I just wasn’t close enough to the edge of the slope, I’ll just-”

The shift in Yuri’s weight was obviously enough to send the sled the rest of the way as it tips over the crest of the hill, Yuri’s expression momentarily turning into abject horror before he drops out of view.

“I WASN’T READY, HOLY FUCK, NOT LIKE THIS,” is all Otabek hears as Yuri plummets down the slope, facing backwards in the sled and clinging to it for dear life. Then there’s just vague screaming and the sound of his own wheezing laughter as Yuri falls out of the sled at the bottom of the hill and starts kicking at the sled. A tiny figure in the distance having a tantrum. Otabek loses it, falling over and clutching his stomach as he laughs.

“You know,” Otabek says as Yuri tries to throw the entire sled at him this time, still full of bubbles of joy from the laughter and trying in vain to stop smiling with such obvious glee, “I’m not sure if you can possibly mess up worse than you already have. Why don’t you try one more time, and then we’ll go home and have hot cocoa?”

“Fuck you, Baka, you just want to see me wipe out again,” Yuri snipes back.

“No, really, I’m getting tired. I just want to see you succeed,” Otabek says, only half meaning it. It would be amazing to see Yuri actually sled the full hill with no incidents. Yuri would be overjoyed, proud of himself, rosy-cheeked and fair and beautiful as he grins and brags. On the other hand, it would be equally amazing to see if Yuri can find a way to one-up the disaster of his previous run again.

“...Okay, I’ll give it one last shot,” Yuri says. He eyes the sled warily, settling down in it far away from the edge of the hill. “Push me over?”

“Of course,” Otabek says. Yuri has his hands on the sides this time, eyes set forward, legs tucked in front of him. More importantly, aside from the perfect form, there’s that flare of determination in his eyes again. A challenge set to the hill.

This is either going to go perfectly or terribly. There’s going to be no in between.

He pushes Yuri off the hill, and all is silent for a moment. Watching the little beacon of golden yellow, he can see the sled picking up speed. And picking up speed. Wow, the sled is going fast. Otabek thinks that Yuri probably inadvertently hit an icy patch right at the top of the hill. The sound of Yuri screaming starts up again, even though he’s not spinning at all, and Otabek glances a little forward at the path Yuri’s set for- going the right way, exactly to the bottom of the hill, except he’s going too fast. The little bump in the path that in previous runs Otabek had just gone over with little fanfare sends the sled, and Yuri, flying into the air.

For a stunning, picturesque moment, both Yuri and sled hang in the air, early morning light making them glow, and Otabek’s reminded of his earlier comparison of Yuri to an angel. If only there wasn’t so much screaming.

Then the moment breaks and the sled thumps back onto the ground, Yuri stubbornly holding onto it right until he hits the ground too. His grip’s shaken loose and he ricochets away, like a shard of shrapnel after an explosion. Otabek watches Yuri skid across the ice, still going impressively fast with all the momentum even as he hits the flat ground at the bottom of the slope, eventually losing enough speed to start tumbling over and over instead. He flips over once, twice, three times and then lands face-first in the snow.

Otabek whistles and begins to clap.

Abstractly, Yuri begins to yell something into the snow, which Otabek can clearly hear as the long, expressive “FUCK” it is once Yuri pushes himself up.

Wow, today’s going to be a good day.

* * *

“Everything in my entire body hurts,” Yuri complains into the tablecloth. He’s had quite a penchant for sticking his face into things today, Otabek muses. “My hips are going to bruise so badly, Baka.”

“There, there.” Otabek pats Yuri on the back, setting a cup of steaming hot cocoa in front of him, which immediately perks him up. “It’s probably not as bad as you think.”

“I mean, yeah, I’m not actually hurt, everything is just sore and stiff,” Yuri grumbles, punctuating the statement with a vague angry wave of his hands. They’re back in Yuri’s kitchen, bundled up in fuzzy black blankets once again. Potya’s avoiding them, clearly unwilling to deal with the pair of them while their hair’s still wet and hands still cold.

“You sound like an old man,” Otabek says, dropping several tiny marshmallows in Yuri’s cup for him.

“Gross,” Yuri wrinkles his still cherry-red nose, “I’m not the old man. You’re obviously the old man.”

“You know, back in my day, kids would say thank you when something nice was done for them,” Otabek raises an eyebrow as he rolls up the marshmallow package.

“Thank you, old man Baka,” Yuri says, “you’re as hilarious as always.”

“If you weren’t glowing with such obvious sincerity, I might think you were being sarcastic,” Otabek says over his shoulder, reaching up to put the marshmallows back in the top shelf of the tea cabinet. The only place Yuri can’t quite reach them- and therefore won’t be bothered to look for them.

They sink into a peaceful silence then, blowing at their hot cocoa until it’s cool enough to drink. Yuri sniffles every once in awhile, cheeks slowly regaining their proper colouring even though his nose and lips stay cherry pink. It’s almost a reasonable time of day, about 11 now. Otabek wants to suggest they go out for lunch somewhere, except that would require them leaving this comfortable solitude. They’re alone, but not alone, because they have each other. Anyone else being around would just intrude on this.

So he stays silent, and drinks hot cocoa.

* * *

**Otabek Altin:** I need to go shopping to get my sister a present for New Years  
**Otabek Altin:** Want to come?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** Otabaka  
**Otabek Altin:** That’s still not my name  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** Altin  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM  
**Otabek Altin:** Who are any of us, really?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** if u went to the mall WITHOUT ME  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** i would KILL YOU and THEN MYSELF  
**Otabek Altin:** I’m sure you’d get a lot of punk rock street cred for that  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** IM GONNA BUY SO MUCH SHITTTTTTT  
**Otabek Altin:** You’re really not going to, since this is a shopping trip for my sister, but you’re welcome to think that  
**Otabek Altin:** Oh, speaking of buying things  
**Otabek Altin:** What do you want as a New Year’s Present?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** if ur not already planning on getting four miniature skates so Potya can skate with us then u clearly dont know me very well as a person

* * *

"Hey, hey, Baka, do you think this would fit me?" Yuri holds up a leather jacket, embroidered on the back with a flaming tiger. It's at least two sizes too big and at least two zeroes too expensive for their price range.

"Not even slightly," Otabek responds, and goes back to browsing. This isn't really his sort of store- it's all edgy leather and faux fur prints, glinting spikes and far too much black fabric. Not that he doesn't wear this kind of thing occasionally, usually while DJing or hanging out with Yuri at the mall, but sweaters are just so much more comfortable and practical. It doesn't help that Yuri has a thing for stealing away Otabek's clothes with his grabby little gay hands, and Yuri looks absolutely adorable in an oversized sweater. 

Otabek's a simple man. He sees Yuri in one of his sweaters, he immediately buys five more.

"But wouldn't I look so cool in it anyways?" Yuri's dancing around to him with the jacket, tugging it on, and yep- it's definitely two sizes too big. Otabek raises an eyebrow as Yuri struggles to get his hands out the sleeves.

"Do you need help with that?"

"Shut up, I've got it," Yuri snaps back, trying to get his hands out for a second longer, then immediately getting frustrated and taking it off. "You're right, it's a stupid jacket. Let's keep looking."

Otabek obligingly puts the tiger print jacket back on its hanger and hangs it back where it belongs while Yuri darts behind him, already gushing over the next thing he finds. Mentally preparing himself to talk Yuri out of yet another impulse purchase, Otabek spins on his heel to find Yuri holding up a spiked choker.

"Look, Baka, it's only five bucks! They’re usually like, ten at least! C'mon, I've gotta buy it, please let me buy it," Yuri pleads, puppy-eyed and pouty. Otabek caves immediately.

"If you want it. It's up to you," Otabek says, like some kind of weak-kneed fool. Who is he kidding? He is a weak-kneed fool. Yuri whoops in delight and springs away to run to the register. 

Wasn’t he supposed to be stopping Yuri from buying things? Why did he agree to go into this store again? Is it actually legal for Yuri to be that cute?

True to form, Yuri puts on his purchase immediately. It highlights the curve of his neck, the line of his collarbone, the beautiful contrast between black fabric and his pale skin. Otabek's eyes keep getting drawn back to it by the spikes catching flashes of light, like tiny beacons commanding Otabek to keep creepily staring at his best friend's neck. Like some kind of… childhood friend vampire. 

"It looks good on you," Otabek says despite himself, the compliment coming loose from lips that are supposed to be locked. Yuri preens in the wake of it, easily flattered and devastatingly pretty. A cockatiel of punk clothing. They’ve gotta get out of this store before Otabek lets Yuri buy half of it. “Why don’t we head to the food court for a break, though?”

* * *

"What does your sister want for New Years?" Yuri asks, stuffing his cheeks full of fries. He looks a little bit like a hamster. The food court bustles around them, brightly lit and noisy, the smell of fast food bordering on disgusting but leaning just slightly more towards enticing. Truly the culmination of the shopping mall experience. Otabek sips noisily through the straw of his drink, thinking on Yuri’s question for a moment.

"Something to do with... science."

"Science," Yuri repeats.

There's a long silence.

"Yeah, science," Otabek repeats.

Yuri nods slowly, chewing the fries even slower. He swallows, takes a sip of Otabek's drink, and then nods one more time. The collar slips down his neck a little bit. "Do you... know what that might be?"

"Something... sciencey," Otabek replies.

"A sciencey thing."

"Yep."

"So, you have no idea what to get her, basically?" Yuri raises an eyebrow, mouth twitching as he tries not to laugh.

"Definitely not," Otabek confirms, letting his head hang into his hands. "She keeps dropping hints about what she wants, but they're going so far over my head. I know nothing about science. What even is science?"

"It's homophobic, that's what," Yuri grumbles. "Why don't we just like.... head to the bookstore and try and find something moderately cool in the sci-fi section?"

"Yura," Otabek says, "you're a genius."

Yuri startles and blushes a brilliant pink, mumbling something under his breath about how any idiot could have thought of that. 

Otabek doesn't miss his pleased little smile, though.

* * *

"Uhhh.... do you think your sister wants something called 'Van Gogh's Ear'?" Yuri calls across the aisles. "It's an autobiography about Van Gogh."

"I'm pretty sure it's a biography, unless Van Gogh wrote it himself," Otabek calls back.

"Fuck you, Van Gogh's ghost could've written this, who knows?" Yuri yells back, earning him a series of harsh looks from various actual adults nearby. "What about- there's a book here on tigers, would she be into that?"

Otabek puts back the book he was looking at- 375 Ways to Cook Eggs- wonders briefly how he even ended up in the cooking section, then walks over to where Yuri is. Sparkling green eyes look up at him as Yuri holds up the tiger-striped book. It looks like it’s for kids, meant as a simple overview of tiger behaviour, and Yuri’s definitely read 50 more like it during their childhood. 

“No,” Otabek says, “but you would be. Do you want it?”

“Yes, you’re the best, I love it, thank you!” Yuri grins in delight and hugs the book in his arms, then suddenly turns serious and scowls up at Otabek. “You better not get me anything else for New Year’s, Baka, this is it.”

“Of course,” Otabek says, not meaning it even slightly, “this is it.”

“If you lie to me about this again and get me like twenty stupid gifts, I’ll kill you,” Yuri says. He steps closer to Otabek, trying to be intimidating, glaring up at him. 

“I’m not lying,” Otabek lies, “I won’t get you anything more.”

“...Good,” Yuri steps back, still eyeing Otabek with suspicion. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Feel free to,” Otabek says. “Did you actually find anything my sister might like, though?”

“Oh, fuck,” Yuri replies, turning towards the bookshelf with all the shame and embarrassment of someone getting caught doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

“I’ll hold you to that, in turn,” Otabek promises with a raised eyebrow. Yuri shoots him one final glare before they both go back to work on the bookshelf.

* * *

**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** baka what are u up to for new years?  
**Otabek Altin:** Probably skating, like usual  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** boringggggg  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** we should do something different this year  
**Otabek Altin:** But you love skating?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** i dooooo  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** i meant something new in our skating!!  
**Otabek Altin:** ...Like what?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** idfk i just wanna try something n e w with u  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** ive missed you a lot  
**Otabek Altin:** I’ve missed you too.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** gay

* * *

As opposed to the quiet, unoccupied hill they’d sledded on, the skating rink is packed to the brim with people celebrating the new year. Yuri keeps getting shoved into Otabek by little kids struggling not to fall, not that either of them really mind the proximity.

Golden hair is stuffed under a bright blue knit hat, cat ears sticking up from it with little peach pink patches clumsily sewn on. It’s not Yuri’s normal style at all; Otabek recognizes it as a gift from his little sister to Yuri a few years ago. He's got one just like it in black.

“Whatever you were planning when you said we should try something new in skating, I don’t think we’re going to be able to do it with all these people,” Otabek says as Yuri collides into him once more, gloved hands gripping at Otabek’s sweater.

Unsurprisingly, Yuri ignores him completely, instead rushing off after the kid who’d run into him- a younger girl, resembling a newborn fawn in both stance and fear of the world. Otabek watches, trying to feel a little less in love than he does right now, as Yuri takes her hands and corrects her posture, barking out instructions loudly and sharply enough for all the nearby adults to look on nervously. Still, the girl’s wide-eyed and full of awe, nodding quickly as Yuri drops one of her hands and swings around to stay on her right side, the pair of them moving to skate in unison around the rink. The girl starts off hesitant and unsure, but quickly grows confident while copying Yuri, grinning up at him when she manages to let go of his hand for the first time and skate on her own.

This has been Otabek’s whole night.

Whatever Yuri was looking for in skating this year, he seems to have found it in helping out these kids who keep bumping into him. Otabek’s starting to think they’re doing it on purpose, seeking out the help of the pretty-faced cat-eared boy willingly instead of by accident. He would offer his own instruction to the kids as well, but Yuri’s content is practically glowing off him, even as he pretends to be miffed whenever he finally skates back to Otabek’s side. Speaking of-

“Can you believe that? Her parents just left her here to figure it out on her own! No wonder she was stumbling like that,” Yuri complains and complains, but there’s a spark of pride in his voice. Otabek wonders at how the boy who hates being taught to do anything loves to teach others anything. Then he figures that maybe that makes perfect sense.

“You mostly figured it out on your own too, before your grandpa figured out how much you loved it and started paying for lessons,” Otabek says. He’s keeping an eye out for the next weak-kneed kid or teen, wary of their conversation being cut short again.

Yuri shrugs, “everyone has to start somewhere. It's just ridiculous that her parents ditched her like that."

An alarm bell begins to ring insistently in Otabek's head, realizations striking him like lightning even as he keeps calmly skating beside Yuri, straight-faced and unfaltering. Any outward reaction would just make Yuri snap at him.

It's one of those nights.

Otabek has never met Yuri Plisetsky's parents. They're more like mythological figures of legend, in that they're only known through spoken and written word, it's hard to believe they really exist, and they're complete assholes. His father's a whisper on the wind at best. Neither of them even knowing his name, only that something tragic happened and he flickered out of the scope of Yuri's existence when Yuri was only four.

Otabek thinks of Yuri's mother like he would a diseased tree. It stands tall, proud, unyielding in the face of the elements, all while mold and sickness spread within. The signs aren't obvious that it's about to succumb. Leaves fall, but don't leaves always fall? Bark cracks and withers, but doesn't bark always crack and wither? But then, a harsh wind blows, and down the branches come one by one. Someone chops down the tree, revealing the rotten, disgusting core inside that covering of bark and leaves.

The stump just sits then, a bother to everyone who sees it, hard to remove and uglier than anything else in the garden.

Yuri Plisetsky's mother whisked herself out the door when Yuri was eight, leaving behind nothing but memories and trouble and that rotten, disgusting stump.

Though maybe Otabek's being unfair to trees, comparing them to her.

Yuri hates her. Otabek hates her. Still, it's taken years for Yuri to get to the point where he felt it was okay to hate her. It's taken years for Yuri to admit that it wasn't his fault that she left. It's taken years for Yuri to grow enough to not start just throwing things in anger when he starts missing her, upset with himself and her and the entire world for conspiring against him in this way.

Usually, Otabek sees the signs. Usually, Otabek would be able to predict some sort of breakdown was coming. Usually, Otabek would find something enjoyable for them to do instead.

Yuri's gotten too good at dealing with everything himself while he's been gone, clearly.

When another kid bumps into Yuri, asking for a lesson, Otabek can barely bring himself to react, oddly furious with himself for not being here this whole time. He can't help it, so why is he so angry? His education has to come first. It’s no longer an option to drop everything and rush to support Yuri through his private struggles. Even if Yuri needs him. 

Then he watches Yuri help the fumbling kid, lighting up as he teaches the child, full of love and warmth and bitterness. Coping, without Otabek's help.

Yuri's gotten very good at keeping his anger hidden away, but he's also gotten very good at cheering himself up. 

Otabek didn’t suggest coming here. 

Yuri did. 

Otabek looks down at the ice as Yuri laughs at the kid for falling, the sound standing out amongst the general din. Music to his ears.

The anger at school and himself is gone. All he can find in himself anymore is pride.

Yuri doesn't need Otabek to be happy anymore, and that's wonderful.

* * *

Plastic forks dig into the single slice of strawberry cheesecake they’d allowed themselves to share in celebration of the new year, the cafe far more deserted compared to the skating rink. It’s closing soon, and Otabek’s sorry to have bothered the workers so close to the end of their shift, but the sullen look still hasn’t left Yuri’s eyes. That’s more important to Otabek than being polite right now. 

“JJ’s going to the same college as me,” Otabek says casually. It’s a fact he’d withheld from sharing through text, knowing it was just going to make Yuri freak out, but the explosion of anger he’s anticipating is far better than the moody silence Yuri’s carefully cultivating right now. 

“He’s WHAT?” Yuri yells, which is exactly what Otabek was expecting and magical to his ears. “How could you not tell me this? What the fuck, Baka? You’ve been consorting with the enemy without even telling me?” 

“I happen to know he went home for the holidays,” Otabek says. Completely calm and composed. He takes another bite of cheesecake, chewing it thoughtfully.

Yuri falls silent, and when Otabek looks up at him, he’s smiling. “Baka, you-”

“Want to go leave whip cream in all his shoes?” Otabek offers. 

“Baka, you’re my favourite person in the world,” Yuri says, the light returning to his eyes. Mischief brings a smile to his face and the strawberry cake brings a pink glossy tint to his lips. “You’re really going to let me put whip cream in all of JJ’s clothes?”

“No,” Otabek says, even as Yuri’s already standing up and rushing to the counter so they can pay and leave, “only his shoes.”

“All his clothes!” Yuri calls back, practically floating on air, nodding his thanks to the tired cashier. He rushes for the door and Otabek hurries after him. 

“Only his shoes, Yura!” Otabek yells after him as they whisk away into the night. 

Somehow, he doesn’t think Yuri’s listening.

* * *

The new year strikes as they shake whip cream cans as quietly as they can, huddled together in JJ’s closet. Otabek’s known how to break into JJ’s house since he was seven years old- JJ had shown him himself. That was before Yuri showed up, but it’s knowledge Yuri has certainly abused in his time here. 

Otabek doesn’t even know at what exact moment the clock turns, forgetting to check his watch as he struggles to keep Yuri from leaving JJ’s clothes dresser full of whipped cream. 

“He doesn’t deserve this,” Otabek says, struggling to keep hold of Yuri’s wrist, “no one deserves this.”

“It’s JJ, Baka!” Yuri whisper-yells, neither of them knowing if anyone is home, “he nominated me to play Tinkerbell in the school play and actually got everyone to vote for me!”

“You were great in that,” Otabek shrugs. Yuri tries to use the movement to break free and fails. “Everyone said you were the best actor on stage.”

“They said I was the best actress and you know it,” Yuri tries to tear free from Otabek’s hold once more, whip cream poised for action in his hand. “This is homophobic, how dare he label me as the faerie boy!”

“Yura, he’s also bi, we both know this, please stop struggling,” Otabek gives up on this and picks Yuri up completely, knocking his legs out from under him and sweeping him up into a princess hold. He weighs nothing and goes entirely still after Otabek picks him up. 

The entire situation suddenly hits him. They’re in the dark, Otabek can’t see Yuri’s face, but he can feel his own heart beating where it’s pressed against Yuri’s shoulder. It’s very fast. Way too fast, Yuri must be able to feel that. 

“Uh,” Otabek says, eloquently. Yuri stares at him, unimpressed. They’ve been forgetting to be quiet for the last fifteen seconds. “Sorry, I’ll put you down.”

“You know I’ll keep trying to put whip cream in JJ’s closet, right?” Yuri says matter-of-factly. He doesn’t bother lowering his voice anymore- if no one has heard them by now, no one will. The house is empty besides them. 

“Okay,” Otabek says, straightening up to his full height and gathering Yuri more properly into his arms. He really doesn’t weigh anything. Otabek should remind him to eat more. “I’ll put you down if you agree to leave after we finish filling his boots.”

Otabek doesn’t end up putting Yuri down until Yuri starts to struggle and squirts the entire lower half of his whip cream can into his face, at which point Yuri is dropped unceremoniously on the ground. 

JJ’s boots end up safe for the rest of the night, but Yuri’s hair is not.

* * *

Belatedly, Otabek wonders if Yuri would have kissed him if they’d realized it was New Year’s and there was no one else around to kiss. 

It would have tasted like whipped cream.

* * *

**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** when r u going  
**Otabek Altin:** Late afternoon, I think.  
**Otabek Altin:** My sister liked the book you found for her, by the way.  
**Otabek Altin:** Thanks for picking that out.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** oh that reminds me  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** HOW DARE YOU GIVE YOUR PRESENTS TO MY GRANDPA SO I HAVE NO OPTION BUT TO ACCEPT THEM YOU ASSHOLE  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** FC K YOU!!!!!!!!!!  
**Otabek Altin:** I have no idea what you’re talking about. Your grandpa gave you those New Year’s presents all by himself.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** YEAH RIGHT  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** MY GRANDPA DEFINITELY BOUGHT ME LEATHER GLOVES THAT SAY “KITTEN  <3” ON THE BACK OF THEM  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** HE DEFINITELY GOT ME MORE BLACK EYESHADOW!!!!!!!!!  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** HE ABSOLUTELY REMEMBERED THAT I WANTED CUTE LITTLE CAT SHOES FOR POTYA!!!!!!!!!!  
**Otabek Altin:** I’m glad he remembered, it was all you could talk about in October.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** FUCK YOU OTABAKA  
**Otabek Altin:** I’ll see you around noon?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** I STILL HATE YOU BUT YEAH

* * *

Yuri’s wearing the gloves and the eyeshadow and the tiger-print leather jacket Otabek had gone back to buy, apparently uncaring of the cold whatsoever as he waits outside Otabek’s front door. His long blonde hair is braided back but still mostly brushing his shoulders, glossy and effortlessly falling in perfect waves. He’s got a hand on his hip and looks like he belongs at a punk-rock modelling agency, not arriving at Otabek’s house to hang out one more time before Otabek has to go. 

Otabek thought once that Yuri looked like a snow angel. Now, as Yuri huffs out a small breath and wisps of mist fall from his glossy pink lips- not strawberry cheesecake but lip gloss this time- he looks more like a reaper. Here to steal Otabek’s soul. 

Not that Otabek would mind. 

“I’m not going to thank you,” Yuri snipes immediately, settling a burning gaze on Otabek’s face. His light eyelashes flutter over dark eyelids, ethereally beautiful. “I asked you not to give me so many things, and you broke that promise.”

“What are you talking about?” Otabek asks, feigning genuine surprise, “your grandpa gave you all those things.”

Yuri responds with a long groan and setting his hand on Otabek’s face to push him aside, angrily stomping into Otabek’s home. Snow follows him onto the stone entranceway, sure to leave wet spots later. Otabek closes the door and follows Yuri just as complacently as the snow. 

“College is stupid,” Yuri announces with all the finality of someone who thinks what they’ve said is about to be written down on a declaration that will sweep the land and revolutionize society. He flops down on the couch, boots up in the air, head in his hands. Into the couch, he keeps talking in muffled words. “You should just stay here forever.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Otabek says, tugging on a string to unlace Yuri’s boots. He keeps working on pulling them off while he talks, careful not to hurt Yuri’s ankles or feet at all. “I’ll still be able to text you, at least.”

“We both know that’s not enough,” Yuri grumbles, raising his face from the couch cushions. Otabek finishes pulling off his boots and tosses them into the entranceway to sit by the rest of the drying shoes. “Thanks, Baka.”

“You’re welcome,” he says, sitting down on the only empty couch cushion left. “What do you want to do until I have to go?”

“I dunno,” Yuri mumbles, sullen and bitter. “Why don’t I just give you the nonexistent new year’s present I have for you, and you can pretend that somehow matches up to the amount of gifts you got for me?”

“Your presence in my life is a gift I am constantly repaying,” Otabek says simply. Yuri stares at him, flushing pink, before shoving his face back into the couch cushions. 

“Baka, you can’t just say stuff like that!” Yuri yells, raising a hand to blindly knock a fist into Otabek’s thigh. 

“Ouch,” Otabek says monotonously. “Your strength is simply too much.”

“Shut up, nerd,” Yuri says into the cushion again, letting his fist drop. They’re silent for a while. Otabek likes that they can just be silent sometimes. He doesn’t always have anything interesting to say, and Yuri doesn’t pressure him to find something to say.

Otabek only just got the silences back, only just got Yuri back, and they’re already going to be leaving again. 

“I’m going to miss you a lot,” Otabek says, daring to run a hand through Yuri’s loose hair. Just once, just the one time before he has to leave.

“Ughhhhhhhh,” Yuri says, popping his face out of the cushions so he can yell even louder. “Stop reminding me that you’re leaving!”

“Yura,” Otabek tries for an admonishing tone and fails miserably, only sounding affectionate instead, “it’s not like I’m dying.”

“You basically are!” Yuri flips over so he’s facing the ceiling, allowing himself more room for dramatic movements with his hands. “You have no social media to speak of, so forget getting updates from you there, you only use your snapchat story to document skating things, you don’t even text me about half the things that happen to you because you’re so busy!”

“Yura, I text you every night and every day in between classes,” Otabek raises an eyebrow. “What more do you want?”

“I don’t know, just- hey, give me your phone,” Yuri demands, suddenly sitting up. Otabek obliges, mildly confused but mostly amused. Yuri hits a few buttons, concentrated, then grins menacingly at Otabek.

Suddenly Otabek has a very bad feeling about giving Yuri his phone. 

“I knew it!” Yuri crows, shoving Otabek’s own phone in his face. Otabek blinks at the sudden closeness, struggling to readjust so he can read it, and catches a glimpse of Yuri and his text message history- the nickname “ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten” blaring across the top. “I knew you nicknamed me something stupid!”

“Is that the only reason you asked for my phone?” Otabek asks, but Yuri’s not paying attention, only tapping things on Otabek’s phone again. Alarm bells finally going off in his head, Otabek starts trying to grab for the phone, but Yuri’s incredibly skilled at slapping his hands away when he’s determined like this. It only takes a few second before Yuri laughs in triumph and lets Otabek snatch the phone back. “What did you do?”

“Deleted my number from your phone,” Yuri shrugs, crossing his arms with his nose in the air. “Serves you right.”

Otabek can’t help but laugh, only barely remembering that distant threat of Yuri’s, all of three weeks ago.

Then, within three hours, Yuri’s gone again and Otabek’s driving away from home. 

He can’t help but feel like he’s less willing to leave this time than he was the first time he left for college.

* * *

**Otabek Altin:** Hi.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** new phone who dis  
**Otabek Altin:** Yuri, you still have my number, you know who I am.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** mmmm my grandpa says im not allowed to talk to strangers, bye  
**Otabek Altin:** I miss you already.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** gaaaaay  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** did u really memorize my number tho  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** wth baka  
**Otabek Altin:** You know what, I remember that I said I’d delete your number from my phone myself if you only called me Baka for my whole visit.  
**Otabek Altin:** Bye, stranger.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** WAIT NO  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** OTABEK PLS  
**Otabek Altin:** New phone, who dis?  
**Stranger Danger:** u know its me!!!!!!!  
**Otabek Altin:** Sorry, don’t know a “me”. Try again later.  
**Stranger Danger:** I HATE U

* * *

_(End of Winter)_


	2. Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't know how university works, despite applying there myself this year. Dorms? Roommates? Please dont @ me, I don't know anything about anything
> 
> I AM vaguely aware that Spring Break is a thing that fluctuates in length depending on where you live? Some people tell me it's a month long (including the universities I'm applying to) but some people tell me it's only a week long? Idk SHITALL my dudes so I just assumed it was about a month long.

**SICK Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** dont come home yet  
**Otabek Altin:** I don’t think I can postpone my entire spring break.  
**SICK Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** its not fair  
**Otabek Altin:** Yura, you’re sick.  
**Otabek Altin:** If anything, this is a better time for me to come home.  
**SICK Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** i wanted to like properly hang out with u tho and im just  
**SICK Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** sitting around in bed being gross  
**Otabek Altin:** Then I’ll sit around in bed being gross with you.  
**SICK Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** then YOULL get sick  
**SICK Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** ugh typing in caps is so loud  
**Otabek Altin:** Yura, we’re texting. It’s all the same volume  
**SICK Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** try telling that to the 3 extra strength tylenols i downed an hour ago  
**SICK Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** i can hear the sound of the universe screaming every time i move, beka

* * *

Tissues litter the crumpled sheets of Yuri’s bed like the scattered remains of a minefield, most of them barely used before they’d been tossed aside. Potya’s claimed an entire pillow for herself, like the empress she is. She doesn’t react whatsoever to Otabek’s arrival. A humidifier is buzzing in the background and there’s a collection of cough medicine and decongestants sitting on Yuri’s bedside table, in dark blue bottles with mostly green caps. Otabek doesn’t understand why all medicine looks like that. 

Yuri’s passed out, the three tylenols obviously having done him in at some point, and looks half-dead as he wheezes. Every breath seems a struggle and every exhale a relief. The fever’s sunk into him like a blade, sweat soaking through his clothes and beading on his forehead, face flushed. He keeps shivering, even with the three layers of blankets on him. 

Later, when he wakes, he’s going to be furious he wasn’t conscious for Otabek arriving. Otabek, in the meantime, is very glad Yuri is sleeping. It seems like it’d be more pleasant to sleep through the fever than try and outlast it.

Otabek drops his bag at the end of the bed, quietly, then heads back into the hallway and to the bathroom. Grabbing a towel, he soaks it in cold water before squeezing it out slightly, draping it gently over Yuri’s forehead when he returns. The other boy barely stirs, only leaning forward slightly into the touch. Otabek can’t help the little flutter in his heart at that, even knowing in his head that Yuri’s dead to the world right now. 

Finishing that small task, Otabek plops down into the fuzzy orange bean bag across the room and pulls out his phone. He’s already spent a few hours with his family- he’s at liberty to hang out here however long he wants. Even if he’s not doing much of anything besides reading. 

Around hour three of reading and occasionally refreshing the towel on Yuri’s forehead, Yuri makes a snuffling, snorting sound, like he’s got something blocking his airway, then suddenly Potya goes flying across the room as Yuri sits abruptly upright. She arches gracefully, tragically across the room, tumbling towards the floor before Otabek. 

“GET OFF MY FACE,” Yuri yells, sitting up with his hands extended before him, grabbing desperate lungfuls of air. Potya soars through the air, a feline angel, and Otabek dives for the floor to catch her. His phone goes flying and hits the wall, Yuri’s yelling his name, Potya is howling in anger. Otabek makes the greatest save of his sudden new career as a football player. 

Potya spazzes in his arms, snagging at his face and arms desperately to right herself and regain some face. Otabek drops her immediately when she drags three lines down his cheek, a sharp pain lashing through his face. She hits the floor, rolls, straightens out and bolts out of the room. She’s going to be mad at them both for weeks. 

Otabek turns to Yuri, who’s staring at him with his jaw dropped. “Hey, Yura. Sorry I didn’t notice Potya climbing onto your face.”

“What the hell, Otabek?” Yuri says. He’s starting to pick his jaw off the floor but obviously still struggling to keep up. “Are you okay? When did you get here? I just catapulted Potya onto your face, holy shit.”

“I’m fine,” Otabek says as a droplet of his blood lands on Yuri’s white carpet floors. “Do you need anything?”

“Fuck, Beka, go put some soap and a bandaid on that, that’s nasty,” Yuri flops back onto his bed, sweaty mop of blonde hair longer than Otabek remembers it and grossly damp against the pillow. “Ugh, I feel like death.”

“You need a bath,” Otabek comments. “It’ll help your congestion and make you feel more fresh.”

“You’re just saying that because I smell like JJ’s armpit funk,” Yuri groans, tossing to the side so he doesn’t have to look Otabek in the eyes. Otabek steps closer. Yuri groans again, louder and more distressed. “Beka, please don’t make me move or get into a hot bath, I’ll internally combust.”

“It won’t be for that long, you just have to wash your hair and rinse off,” Otabek says, stepping closer and crossing his arms. Then, feeling a little awkward at how demanding he’s being, he drops his crossed arms and bends down to Yuri’s level. The other teen isn’t facing him, but Otabek’s still more comfortable with this. “Please?”

Yuri flops back over to face Otabek, glaring at him like he’s just asked Yuri to climb Mount Everest in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt. Otabek thinks that Yuri would probably be able to do that somehow, just through sheer stubbornness. He’d die, for sure, but he’d still find a way to do it. “How dare you be polite and considerate? Now I have to say yes, you evil mastermind.”

“It’s because I care about you,” Otabek shrugs, smiling warmly. Yuri scowls at him, sticking out his tongue in disgust. His breath smells like sickly sweet cherry cough medicine. “Also, brush your teeth.”

“Yes, mom,” Yuri rolls his eyes, rolling back into the middle of his bed and splaying his arms out to the sides. “Go clean your face first, I don’t want to cough in your battle wound and probably kill you with my deadly germs.”

“That sounds incredibly unlikely,” Otabek says, but goes willingly to the bathroom, leaving Yuri to call sadly for Potya to please come back and forgive him. Judging from how the calls stop after a minute, Potya is still willing to forgive Yuri of everything short of not feeding her. 

He turns on the taps for the bath, pulls out the first aid kit, and starts inspecting his face. There’s more blood than he thought- Potya ripped deeper than it felt like. Otabek mildly wonders if this is going to scar. It would be a cool scar, but probably not. He’s certainly gotten worse scratches from Potya that didn’t scar. When he was younger he did a lot of stupid things to try and get the cat to like him.

He washes the blood off with soap, sort of soaking his sweater since it’s very difficult to wash his cheek without getting water entirely down his front, and slaps a haphazard bandaid on the section of scratches where it’s the worst. There isn’t a bandaid long enough to cover the whole set of lines, but that will be enough to appease Yuri.

Tearing it off is going to absolutely suck. The things he does for love.

The bath’s full by the time he’s done, so Otabek heads back to Yuri. Potya’s regained her spot on the pillow beside Yuri’s head, dignified and regal. Otabek swears she nods at him in acknowledgement for catching her. 

He is so in love with Potya, and yet he fears her in equal amounts. She hates him, yet must respect the fact that he saved her from landing on the floor. They have a complicated relationship. 

“Carry me,” Yuri immediately whines, making grabby little hand motions at Otabek. “Please, Beka, I don’t wanna walk.”

“Sure,” Otabek agrees easily, before remembering that this requires him to actually pick Yuri up. Hesitantly, he pulls back the three layers of covers, feeling strangely vulnerable despite the fact that Yuri’s the one being exposed to the cool air. Yuri’s in a white t-shirt, two sizes too big, definitely Otabek’s, and a pair of grey sweatpants. Maybe also Otabek’s. “Do you actually own any clothes of your own, or do you just steal mine?”

“I don’t own any sweatpants,” Yuri protests numbly as Otabek carefully slides his hands under Yuri’s knees and upper back. “They’re too comfy to not wear, so I just take yours.”

“Why don’t you own any sweatpants?” Otabek asks, mind stalling out on that thought. He just looks at Yuri in confusion as he picks him up. “Who doesn’t own sweatpants?”

“Beka, you’ve grown up with me,” Yuri sighs and flips his hair with his free hand, the other one pressed to Otabek’s chest. “Do you really think I would willingly be seen buying sweatpants?”

“No,” Otabek says, finally starting to move towards the hallway. Potya looks infuriated at the loss of her one true love, sick as Yuri may be. She follows them out of the bedroom, meowing loudly at Otabek. Presumably demanding he put Yuri down. “Though I never understand who this anonymous judgemental group is that you think is watching you. I’ve never known you to care what people thought of your fashion style.”

He certainly wouldn’t still be wearing so much 2007 style fur print if he cared about people making fun of him, after all. 

“I don’t care,” Yuri mumbles sullenly. Otabek nudges open the bathroom door with his hip, careful not to bang Yuri’s head into it. Potya refuses to follow them into the bathroom, hissing at the puff of steam in her face. “It’s just… high school. Being committed to your dumb teenage persona.”

“That’s fair,” Otabek says. He slowly swings Yuri’s feet to the ground. When it becomes apparent that Yuri might genuinely not be able to support his own weight, he gently puts Yuri down on the edge of the tub instead. “Will you be okay to not kill yourself somehow while bathing?”

“If I wanted to die in a bathtub, I’d be drinking myself stupid at frat parties I’m too young for,” Yuri reassures him, already pulling off his fuzzy pink socks and half-shooing Otabek out the door. “Get out, Beka, my virgin body is too pure for your cursed university eyes.”

Otabek is inclined to agree with that as Yuri starts to pull off the white t-shirt. He catches a glimpse of pale skin before he shuts the bathroom door behind him. That’s fine. Cool. 

It’s much quieter in the hallway, chillier. There’s the distant sounds of water splashing. Otabek steps forward far enough to lean his forehead against the wall on the other side of the bathroom door, closing his eyes.

Potya meows at him, unimpressed look punctuated with a snap of her tail. He took her bedmate and shut him behind a door, so all the misfortune of the past fifteen minutes is clearly now Otabek’s fault. 

“You’re going to kill me in my sleep one day, aren’t you?” Otabek asks. 

Potya only stares at him, big blue eyes wide and vacant. 

It still feels like a threat.

* * *

The fever breaks and Yuri regains the strength to walk by himself, not that Otabek ever doubted him. Yuri blames the whole thing on high school and it's ridiculous workload. So, naturally, they had to find a way to destress. 

Otabek would not have suggested this. 

“Beka, fuck you, oh my god, give me the bowl you dipshit,” Yuri demands, grabbing the wooden spoon from Otabek’s hand and starting to virtually attack the batter. “If you aren’t going to cream the butter and sugar properly then why are you even in my kitchen?”

“Because you’re still sick and refusing to acknowledge it so your grandpa asked me to make sure you don’t try and do too much too fast and pass out,” Otabek replies, forcefully grabbing the bowl and spoon back from Yuri. He doesn’t think he’d have been able to get them back if Yuri was any healthier. “Fine, I’ll cream the butter and sugar properly, just tell me when they’re ready.”

It becomes apparent after a few minutes of this that no amount of stirring by human hand is going to get the butter and sugar mixture to the consistency that Yuri wants, so they just go ahead and do the next step. Yuri’s complaining about this rings through Otabek’s ears for the rest of the baking process.

The cupcake pan sits in the oven and Yuri’s sitting at the table while Otabek does dishes. The warm, soapy water washes over his hands, and Yuri’s humming behind him creates a hypnotically relaxing atmosphere. He tries to turn a ear to Yuri’s song and place it as a real song, but it’s fleeting and whispery. It doesn’t sound like Yuri’s usual taste in music. Strangely familiar, though. 

“Hey, Yura,” Otabek says, “what’s that song?”

“It’s nothing,” Yuri replies. He stops humming, but his fingers start to tap to the same beat on the table. “It’s just stuck in my head.”

“I liked it,” Otabek says, scrubbing at the mixing bowl and having to speak loudly to hear himself over it. “Are you sure it was nothing?”

“Yeah, Beka, it was nothing,” Yuri says, voice rising a bit in volume. Something about Otabek asking what song it is is aggravating him? He doesn’t stop tapping his fingers, though. After a minute, he starts humming again, like he can’t help it. Otabek drops what he’s holding in his hands and turns to Yuri, raising a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Fine! You should have recognized it anyways, it’s from your soundcloud!” Yuri pulls out his phone in a flash, drawing up Otabek’s soundcloud fast enough that he must have already had it open. A familiar tune starts to play- one of Otabek’s less popular songs, one of the more melodic ones. “I thought you were trying to bug me by asking what song it was.”

“Well, I recognized it but... couldn’t quite place it,” Otabek shrugs. He’s vividly aware of the heat on his cheeks and struggles to keep his tone even and unflustered. This is fine. Yuri likes his music. “I’m glad you like the song.”

Yuri frowns at him, obviously confused. “What are you talking about? I love all your music. I have a different song of yours stuck in my head everyday.”

“Oh,” Otabek says, then struggles to find something else to say. He clears his throat, turns back to the dishes, and starts scrubbing again. “Thanks. It’s only a hobby, but I love making songs.”

“Well, obviously, you’re super good at it,” Yuri laughs, “Oh my god, you’re so embarrassed right now! C’mon, you didn’t really think I didn’t listen to your music, right?”

Otabek keeps scrubbing, face burning red.

“Beka, you have thousands of listeners, it shouldn’t surprise you that I love your music!” Yuri’s all worked up now, starting to get up from the table. “You don’t think that badly about your own songs, do you?”

“No,” Otabek finally manages, and Yuri goes quiet. “I know people like my music. I just didn’t think you would. I’m… flattered.”

“Oh,” Yuri says. He plops back into his chair, content now that he knows Otabek’s not being self-deprecating. “Good, then.”

The oven timer goes off, and the beeping resonates around the room for a minute before Yuri thinks to get up and turn it off.

“We’re gonna listen to your music when we play Smash from now on,” Yuri declares. He’s grabbing the oven mitts and Otabek takes them from him, ignoring Yuri’s noise of displeasure. “Fuck you, I can take a cake out of the oven on my own.”

“You’re scared of the oven door, Yura,” Otabek says, pulling the gloves on. “Also, I think playing my music during Smash is a bad idea. You’ll start to associate my music with defeat.”

“Shut up,” Yura says, looking like he wants to nail Otabek with a shin kick but refraining due to the hot pan in Otabek’s hands. “You asshole.”

“Whatever you say, Yura,” Otabek shrugs. He puts the cupcakes down on the stove and closes the oven, turning it off with a push of a button. “Maybe I’ll make a song just for you and your losses.”

Otabek’s kidding when he says it, but when he looks back at Yuri, his eyes are big and green and full of hope. Yuri doesn’t say anything, but he’s looking at Otabek like Otabek just offered to give him the entire world.

Cool, Otabek’s making a song for Yuri.

* * *

**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** why the hell does baba want to meet us in the park?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** its cold as balls out there still  
**Otabek Altin:** She says she misses it.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** and we’re just letting her drag us out there  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** ive known her since i was like 2 years old, i should have enough sway to get her to agree to a cafe or something  
**Otabek Altin:** Do you really want to try?  
**Otabek Altin:** She can bench press you.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** she can bench press all of us, that fact doesnt matter  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** SOMEONES GOTTA STAND UP TO THIS TYRANNY

* * *

**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** so we’re meeting in the park  
**Otabek Altin:** Impressive “sway”, Yura. Really stood up to her.  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** stfu i hate u  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** try telling someone no when they’re lifting u over their head like ur a feather to them  
**Otabek Altin:** Did she start singing Circle of Life again?  
**ANGRY Teensy Tiny Little Baby Kitten:** IM NOT A LION IM A TIGER  
**Otabek Altin:** Sure.  
**Otabek Altin:** I’m so very sorry, Yura.  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion:** this is why ur my favourite, beka

* * *

“Yura, I haven’t seen you in forever!” Mila calls for them across the park. She’s already charging for them, Yuri failing to react quickly enough to get away from her swooping arms and ending up lifted into the air. Mila spins with him in her arms, flannel dress swirling around her, Yuri protesting loudly the entire time. “You’re still so small! Have you been eating properly while we’ve been gone?”

“Yes, fuck, put me down!” Yuri tries to twist-flip out of her arms and fails, Mila’s sheer strength keeping him caught, though she does stop spinning. Yuri hisses up at her and starts trying to scrabble at her fingers, yelling all the while. “What is it with you university people and picking me up?”

“It must be how adorable and huggable you are,” Mila says sardonically, letting Yuri go after he manages to pry one gloved finger away. He startles but lands on his feet, rocking back slightly as he loses his balance before steadying himself on Otabek. Mila laughs at him, rosy-cheeked and rosy-haired. She looks almost exactly the same as Otabek last saw her- leather jacket, undercut, gray flannel leggings and black boots- but Yuri’s squinting at her like she’s a stranger. 

“Did you get a tattoo?” He finally asks when Mila starts squinting back at him in a mocking way. Otabek can hear that Yuri was shooting for a condescending tone but it only ends up coming out excited and impressed. 

“Oh, yeah, I did do that!” Mila gets equally excited in an instant, turning around and lifting up her hair slightly, exposing the buzzed underside and the line of her neck. It’s bitingly cold despite it being March already, but she’s not wearing a scarf so the black outline of a heart is plain to the eye. No wonder Yuri spotted it, getting tossed around by her neck like that. “It’s not very original, but I wanted something small before I decided on something bigger. Sara’s got a matching one, it’s adorable.”

Yuri’s eyes are sparkling, full of wonder and hope for the future. Otabek’s already speaking before Yuri’s even finished turning to look at him. 

“No, you can’t have a tattoo, you’re too young,” Otabek sighs, “And so am I. We’d need parental permission. Mila was only able to because she’s over 19.”

“Yeah, suck it, little dudes,” Mila sticks out her tongue at Yuri before dissolving into laughter at his affronted look. The snow crunches deliciously beneath their boots as they wander around the park, not doing much of anything besides talking. It’s only a thin layer of snow and ice, enough to practically feel the grass below, but slick enough to still be moderately dangerous.

Mila hooks an arm around Yuri, still intent on bugging the younger boy. He tries to get as far away as possible, so it creates an odd situation where their heads are very close but bodies as distant as Yuri can get them. They look impressively stupid. “So, Yura, how’s high school without Otabek? Miss him much? Aw, wait, do you still miss JJ, Isabella and I? I remember how happy you got to see us that first winter break! You got all emotional, and when JJ made fun of you for it you actually hugged him!”

“Get off me, Baba!” Yuri tries to duck out from under her arm, but she just flexes, trapping his neck further into the brace. “High school still sucks and it always will, with or without you assholes!” 

Mila turns to Otabek then, grinning, and beckons him over with her other arm. Otabek smiles at her and goes willingly, letting her tuck him under her arm. “And what about you, Otabek? How’s your first year treating you?”

“I’m fine,” Otabek shrugs. “I don’t know why you’re asking me this. I see you every week there.”

“So what, now I’m the weird one for not including you in the conversation?” Mila pouts, squeezing Otabek’s neck a little harder, then relaxing when Otabek winces. “Sorry, I’m just trying to make you feel included. It’s hard getting you to divulge things about how your classes are. You’re always so uncomfortable without Yura around!”

“Really?” Yuri asks, voice practically trilling at this news. Otabek glares at Mila.

“Oops, was I not supposed to say that?” She laughs, clearly not sheepish at all, so Otabek just rolls with it. 

“It’s somewhat true. Rather, though, I think Mila and JJ just like to pick on the youngest person there, so without you around, they’ve taken it upon themselves to make me as uncomfortable as possible,” Otabek says. Mila gasps in horror at the accusation. Yuri laughs, finally giving up on ducking away from Mila’s grasp, instead relaxing into their strange little field huddle. Otabek’s sort of leaning down into it, and it’s starting to hurt his back. “Why don’t we go sit down?”

Mila shrugs and agrees, freeing the both of them from the death trap of her biceps.

They wipe a bench free of snow to sit on, where it’s much less strange for Yuri and Otabek to be cuddled against Mila’s sides. It’s wet and chilly but they’re all covered in so many layers that it barely matters. 

“Have you applied to university yet, Yura?” Mila asks, throwing an arm over Yuri’s shoulder once more and tucking her hands into the opening between his shoulder and coat to keep her hand warm. 

“You’re cold as hell, baba,” Yuri complains, but doesn’t bother trying to shrug her off, only glares at her. “I mean, obviously. There are deadlines, in case you’ve forgotten, you old bat.”

“You’re such a rude little boy,” Mila sighs and lays her head on Yuri’s other shoulder. “Do you know how unpopular you’re going to be?”

“Shut up, I’m pretty enough that people will forgive me,” Yuri shrugs his shoulder harshly, knocking Mila off. She glares at him before turning to Otabek and laying her head on his shoulder instead, looking up at Otabek through dark lashes. 

“Hey, Otabek, do you think Yura will room with you?”

“If he wants to,” Otabek replies. 

“Of course I want to,” Yuri snaps, looking at Otabek with betrayal in his eyes over the top of Mila’s head. “Why would I not want to?”

Sometimes Yuri gets mad at Otabek for Otabek trying to respect Yuri’s boundaries. Otabek doesn’t really understand that, since he thinks it would be worse if Otabek tried to speak for Yuri all the time. Isn’t that why Yuri hates JJ so much, anyways?

“You’ll have to kick JJ out,” Mila snickers, then presses the index finger of her free hand to her lip thoughtfully. “Though I think he was hoping to get an apartment outside of the dorms with Isabella anyways?”

“Even if he’s not getting an apartment, I’m obviously going to be rooming with Beka,” Yuri says loudly, loudly enough for Mila to look at him with raised eyebrows. Yuri’s refusing to look at the pair of them, instead staring off into the distance at the ice-covered swing set, eyes dark even with the light of the day. 

“That might be a little awkward when Beka brings home cute boys,” Mila giggles, and absolutely does not catch the sharp look Otabek sends her way. “JJ and him have a system worked out already, you’ll need a new one, I guess?”

Yuri’s quiet for a moment, still staring into the distance, before he almost seems to remember he’s supposed to respond. “We can just text. It’s not a big deal.”

Otabek closes his mouth, swallowing the words he was about to say about how Mila doesn’t know what she’s talking about. There is no ‘system’. That’s just something JJ made up to make it sound like JJ is more of a player than he is- JJ’s heart has been set on Isabella since they were all in grade school together. Otabek isn't a total loner, he’s met some people in university and gone on some dates, but they’ve only confirmed for him that his heart isn’t going to give him a break until he at least tries to make it work with Yuri. 

Neither of them are the playboys Mila’s making them sound like right now. However, if Yuri honestly doesn’t care, then Otabek can just clarify the situation later. Yuri might not like JJ, but Otabek isn’t going to embarrass JJ by exposing his lie for no real reason. 

“If you say so,” Mila says, sighing slightly and letting her breath fog out into the air. “It’s really not the same without you, Yura. I can’t wait for next september.”

Otabek looks at the downturn of Yuri’s mouth, his eyelids hanging low over dark eyes, the sharp cut of his jawline against the backdrop of ice and dirt. He doesn’t hear what Yuri says next, too focussed on the way Yuri’s hair spills over his shoulders like trailing sunlight.

It’s not a big deal.

* * *

The problem with writing a song for Yuri is that Otabek can’t explain all the emotions he’s trying to put into it with words. He’s a DJ, he focuses on beats and hooks that can get people excited to dance at a club. The softer songs go on his soundcloud, and apparently Yuri likes those, but Otabek’s not sure whether he should go with a softer sound. Is this a song in which he’s trying to express his love for Yuri, or a song that’s trying to express who Yuri is? 

A song to express his love is melodic and soft, comforting and warm. It’s expansive and has highs and lows but is always murmuring in the background. Something that gets stuck in someone’s head, that worms its way into someone’s heart and sits there for hours, days, years. A song to express his love would be hopelessly cheesy. Otabek’s struck by the thought of overhearing Yuri humming a song like that one day, and almost decides to make that idea of a song on the spot. 

A song to express Yuri… would be completely different. Hard rock, almost metal, something angry and furious and clawing. A tune that’s looking to prove itself, and always succeeds. Anything loud, anything punctuated, anything glamorous. Something to show how highly Otabek thinks of who Yuri truly is, the angry teen boy who gets sick and loves his cat. No need for facades or cover ups, just something that’s truly Yuri. A song that Yuri will love because it represents him, not something that represents Otabek’s feelings. 

He plays around with some chords and progressions, wandering back and forth from idea to idea. Just when he feels like he’s settled on one, an idea pops into his head for the other and he jumps back to that file instead. Otabek doesn’t think he’s been this inspired for months, and it’s a good feeling. He’s really missed his music. 

By the time he looks up from his computer again, the sun’s setting and the sounds of his mom making dinner are audible through the house. 

Otabek hits save and goes to help his mom do dishes, ignoring the barely audible whisper of melodies in the back of his head. 

He’ll come back to this later.

* * *

“So how’s the university dick?” Yuri asks one night around a mouthful of pizza, managing to stay in first in Mariokart with only one hand on the controller and one eye on the screen. They’re at Otabek’s house again, with Yuri stealing Otabek’s entire bed and Otabek sitting on the floor like usual. 

Otabek promptly chokes on his pizza, drops his controller and turns to stare at Yuri. “Sorry, what?”

“C’mon Beka, we both know you’re fine as hell,” Yuri says and Otabek did not know that Yuri thought that, “Tell me you’ve been getting some good frat boy dick or I’m gonna be majorly disappointed in you.”

“No,” Otabek says after a pause in which he briefly recalibrates his entire mindset and view of the world. “That’s actually, shockingly, not what I went to university for.”

“Lame,” Yuri says, winning the race while he turns away to grab another slice of pizza. “What about parties?”

“No, Yura,” Otabek replies. “I haven’t been secretly withholding all knowledge of wild raves from you. I’ve been invited to some, though.”

“And you haven’t gone?” Yura scoffs, turning a disgusted eye on Otabek. “This is where that major disappointment is kicking in.”

Otabek shrugs, unsure what Yuri wants to hear. He’s gone to a few parties, sure, but he doesn’t drink enough to get anything more than mildly tipsy and he doesn’t really like being the centre of attention. JJ tries to do kegstands, not Otabek. 

“Mila told me you hooked up with some people,” Yuri spits out like he can’t help but say it, and when Otabek looks at him, Yuri’s still staring down at him. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I would have told you if I hooked up with some people,” Otabek says, frowning. He thought Yuri was fine with what Mila said at the park. He’d said it was fine. “Are you sure she didn’t say JJ?”

“Shut up, Beka, we both know JJ’s been a slut for just the one woman since he met her,” Yuri says, “He just plays up the playboy thing because he thinks it somehow makes him cooler. Or are you forgetting that we both grew up with him and Isabella?”

Otabek can’t tell if Yuri’s just looking to lash out at anything that moves or if he’s actually upset at something specific. Usually mentioning JJ is a surefire way to break the tension. This is a bad rehashing of old times, times before they knew each other quite so well and rubbed each other the wrong way by accident, and Otabek doesn’t like it at all. Yuri hasn’t gotten mad at him like this for something he thought was okay between them for years. He thought they were better at communication than this by now. 

“No, of course I didn’t forget that,” Otabek says, cautiously. “I haven’t hooked up with anyone. You’ve been my best friend since I met you, I wouldn’t keep secrets from you.” 

“Just like how JJ was your best friend, right?” Yuri asks, finally looking away, and Otabek stiffens. “Right until I showed up.”

“Yura, I was 9,” Otabek sounds indignant now and he knows it. He thinks he even deserves to sound this way, because it’s unfair of Yuri to be digging stuff up from this long ago. It’s unfair of Yuri to not trust Otabek when Otabek tells him the truth. Otabek’s always trusted Yuri’s word above anybody else’s. That’s why they’re best friends. No, it’s because they’re best friends that Yuri should put Otabek’s words over some joke Mila told. “This was 10 years ago, I’d like to think we’ve both grown as people. I have, at least.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Yuri snaps. They’ve both been just leaving the Mariokart opening screen on for a minute now, the music bright and cheery in the background. “The only really childish thing happening here is you keeping secrets from me.”

“Yura, you’re asking for some truth that I don’t have,” Otabek tries again, patient as ever, even as Yuri’s steaming kettle of anger continues to boil at his back. Even as his own anger starts to heat up. “You know everyone I’ve been spending time with in university. JJ, Mila and Isabella are it.”

“That’s all?” Yuri says.

“That’s all,” Otabek replies. 

They’re quiet for a while after that, before Yuri suddenly huffs and throws his controller at the floor. When he speaks it’s like the sound’s been trapped in his throat for a year, reverberating around an impossible amount of times to turn it into something violent and explosive. “That’s it, then? That’s all you have to say to me about university? Don’t think I haven’t fucking noticed it, Beka. You never talk about what’s happening in your life with me! Is this what we fucking are, now?”

Otabek can only listen as Yuri glares down at him from the bed, words almost as vicious as the look in eyes. 

“We’re just two estranged childhood friends. I’m the naive little high schooler who’s too fucking boring to pull your attention and who’s not mature enough to talk to about your problems,” Yuri stands up from the bed, agitated and looking down his nose at Otabek. “And you’re the cool university kid, hanging out with JJ and Mila and everybody else.”

Yuri starts to pace and Otabek finally gets a word in edgewise, though he’s not quite sure whether they’re the right words. “Yura, you know that’s not true. How long have you been thinking this? I tell you everything important and I hang out with you on skype more than I hang out with Mila or JJ. There’s-”

Yuri cuts him off, talking over him so succinctly and loudly that Otabek lets his own voice trail off. “Your idea of what’s important is awful, Beka! You never think anything that happens to you is important enough to tell me about! You’d probably break your entire leg before thinking it might be a good idea to tell me anything that happens in your life.” 

“If you want me to tell you more about my life, I can do that,” Otabek says. “Yura, if you have a problem, we can talk about it. That’s how we solve those problems.”

“I don’t want to force you to tell me about your life,” Yuri’s still pacing, his footsteps getting quieter and his turns getting slower, his voice falling instead of rising for the first time in this argument. “It’s your life, Beka. How you live it is your choice.”

“You’re an important part of my life, Yura,” Otabek says, fidgeting with his hands but keeping his voice steady. “I’ll always be happy to make a small change if it makes you happier.”

Yuri stops pacing, turned towards the wall. Away from Otabek. 

“What if I’m just not happy?” He finally says.

“What do you mean?” Otabek asks.

“What if there’s something wrong and there isn’t anything you can do to fix that, Beka?” Yuri asks, turning to face him again. Otabek desperately searches his best friend’s face, looking for some clue to what’s genuinely running through Yuri’s head, but there’s nothing. “What then?”

“I don’t know, but we won’t know if there’s anything I can do until we actually sit down and talk about it,” Otabek says. He pats the spot beside him on the floor, inviting Yuri to sit beside him. “You’ve obviously been thinking about a lot of things, and I haven’t been paying enough attention to notice. I’m sorry for that, Yura. Let’s start fixing things.”

“No,” Yuri says, face still placid as a lake before a storm, “You’ll just feed me a bunch of pretty, useless lies to make everything seem better.”

“Lies? Again?” Otabek says, sighing, tired of being accused of this by Yuri. He’s never lied to Yuri before and he doesn’t have a past that would make him suspicious in that particular sin. 

“Then you’ll leave again, and it won’t fucking matter,” Yuri continues, like Otabek didn’t say a thing. “You’ll go back to your fancy university with all our old friends and leave me alone again.”

“Yura, you know I don’t want to leave,” Otabek tries, the same alarm bells that went off in his head at New Year’s going off again now, “But I can’t stay.”

“Exactly!” Yuri yells, “It’s not something you can fix. We skype and we chat, but then you get to go to cool university parties with our old friends while I stay home, alone, with no friends and definitely no parties. It’s not fair, it’s so fucking unfair. You got to take my friends along with you to university, and you took yourself along with them too.”

That hurts. That hurts because Otabek never even considered the fact that Yuri’s actually alone here, now. Yuri was always the kid in high school who was only friends with people in older grades- even in his first year of high school, he mostly hung out with Viktor Nikiforov, who was in his final year. 

Now that Mila, JJ, Isabella and Otabek are gone, Yuri’s been reduced to the weird kid in the edgy clothes. 

And Yuri was right. 

There’s nothing Otabek can do to fix that. 

“There’s no one here anymore, just me and grandpa and you’re off at university, making new friends and keeping my old ones, and it’s not fucking alright, Beka,” Yuri snaps, his facade of anger just barely holding up against the chasm of loneliness in his voice. He’s pushing Otabek away because he doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know how else to express how angry he is at how alone he is. “Fuck you, and fuck your stupid university, and fuck all our old friends anyways! You’re all assholes. I’m done with this stupid friendship.”

Otabek faintly remembers thinking that Yuri didn’t need him anymore, back at New Year’s. 

“Yura, wait,” Otabek stands up, reaching for the younger boy, ready to hug and talk this out and start healing, but Yuri startles at his movement, fleeing for the door. It slams shut behind him in the time it takes Otabek to take a step. 

Mariokart blares from the TV. Otabek considers kicking it to make it shut up, but doesn’t because he loves that TV and if he kicks it, he and Yuri won’t be able to play video games on it anymore. 

He just lets the music play.

Cheerful, optimistic, and awful.

* * *

Otabek turns to his music, feverishly writing and deleting. Nothing comes out the way it should anymore. He wants to write a song to somehow express how sorry he is, how he doesn’t know how to fix this, how he wishes he could have been the same age as Yuri from the beginning so they would be in the same grade. There are too many complicated emotions and words that he couldn’t possibly express in the layers of synths and beats. 

He goes to text Yuri instead, and abruptly finds himself speechless.

The song expressing his love for Yuri grows and grows, turning sad and melancholic, fading out on a crackling sound that’s just discordant and ugly. He doesn’t know how else to end it, so he listens to it again. It starts peaceful, soft, caring, then grows disjointed and off beat. Things aren’t connecting, he didn’t time some things properly. He can almost hear the song it could be. 

It could be magnificent, but it’s not. 

The song expressing who Yuri is, the one with the loudness and the guitar and the drums, goes quiet. Otabek can’t even continue working on it, doesn’t know how to. It feels like he’s lost some key part of information that tells him who Yuri is, and Yuri took that key part and threw it away so that Otabek could never access the lock to his heart again. It cuts off abruptly, and Otabek writes so many more endings for it that never pan out the way he wants them to. Unlike his love song, he can’t even hear how this song should end, can’t even hear how this song should be. 

It’s garbage. 

Otabek still doesn’t want to give up on it. 

He hits save instead of delete, and starts something new.

* * *

**Otabek Altin** : Hey.  
**Otabek Altin** : Can we talk?  
**Otabek Altin** : I don’t want to go back to university until things are okay between us again.  
**Otabek Altin** : If you want to talk to me, I’ll be home. Doing nothing, without you.

* * *

Two days pass. Then three. Then four. After a week, Otabek resigns himself to not seeing Yuri again for the rest of the time he’s here. It doesn’t feel like a rift they can’t fix- nothing ever does, with Yuri- but it’s a rift strong enough to ward Yuri off from wanting to fix it for a few weeks, at least. 

Thinking of their relationship in this methodical, rational way helps stave off the fear of never talking to Yuri again. They’ve been friends long enough that he can see the patterns in these fights. 

It doesn’t help the loneliness at all. 

Otabek is so bored. He’s never been this bored in his life. He works on his music, he studies for class. Neither of those activities hold any sort of appeal right now, but they’re things to do, so he does them regardless. He even went to the mall once, on a whim. It was also, amazingly, boring as hell without Yuri there. Otabek feels like he’s on the cusp of a revelation, one that should have been obvious to him this whole time. 

This town? Is incredibly boring without Yuri Plisetsky in it. 

Otabek spends another two days doing nothing, lounging around his room in pyjamas and pretending he’s not wallowing in misery, before coming to another epiphany. 

His entire life? Incredibly sad without Yuri Plisetsky in it. 

He’s two weeks into his visit, ten days without Yuri in his life, when his door slams open at ten in the morning and his sister marches in. Aisha’s still in her pyjamas, gray sweatpants and a bright pink t-shirt, and she glares at him for a moment before slamming the door behind her. Otabek pulls off his headphones and lowers the lid of his laptop. 

“Good morning, Ai,” Otabek says. She glares harder at him, and puts her hands on her hips. Otabek clears his throat, feeling a little out of his depth. “Is everything alright?”

“No, everything’s not alright, Beka,” Aisha declares, marching over and slamming his laptop fully shut. “You need to get out of this room, and go fix Yura.”

“What do you mean, fix Yura?” Otabek repeats, raising an eyebrow. He’s trying to summon the energy to care about the file he probably just lost, but it was a minute and a half of utter garbage, so what he summons up is more like resignation. He was going to throw it out anyways. “Yura’s fine. He’s been avoiding me.”

“It’s not like you’ve tried very hard to go find him, Beka,” Aisha rolls her eyes, plopping down on his bed. Otabek moves over to leave her room to sit. “You’re over here being all gentlemen-ly and letting him come to you when he’s ready, but with that attitude, he’s never gonna come back.”

“Ai, I appreciate you’re trying to help, but I know Yura. He likes to choose when to talk to me again on his own. I don’t want to push and break something that wasn’t already broken,” Otabek sighs. 

“You’re kidding, right?” Aisha sighs back, harder. “He’s lonely! He’s been lonely. I should know, he comes over to hang out sometimes.”

“He does?” Otabek asks. 

“Yeah, in case you didn’t notice, he doesn’t have any friends,” Aisha says, not without concern. “This isn’t a situation where he’s mad at you for something dumb you did, this is a situation where he’s upset because he feels like he’s being left behind. He doesn’t want to be set further adrift, he wants to be tugged back in.”

Otabek thinks about that for a second, setting his laptop to the side. Then he smiles at Aisha, who smiles hesitantly back. “When did you become the Yuri whisperer?”

“Sometime around February, when he told me how he feels about all this stuff,” Aisha shrugs. She’s blushing and looking sheepish anyways, obviously pleased with the praise. 

“Yura told you about all this?” Otabek asks. He feels it’s a reasonable thing to be skeptical about- Yuri’s seventeen. Aisha’s thirteen. Otabek only really knows the one seventeen year old but he’s going to make a generalization because he thinks it’s justified, that he’s pretty sure most seventeen year olds don’t talk to thirteen year olds much about their feelings. Especially Yuri, who would rather break his own leg than admit to any genuine feeling that isn’t anger. 

“Beka, all his friends were at university, and he was upset about those friends. He wasn’t going to talk to his grandpa about all this teenage drama. I was basically his only option,” Aisha actually looks distressed about that. Otabek’s heart swells about three times larger at the endearment of his baby sister and his best friend caring about each other, even without his involvement. Aisha, oblivious to this, keeps talking. “I wasn’t gonna say anything to you, but your moping was getting sad.”

Otabek leans down for her, aiming for a hug, and she lets him pull her up. Aisha gripes a little, but folds into it, giving as good as she gets. Unable to resist a final dig, she cuddles into his shoulder and mutters, “Also, you needed to stop coming into my room to see what I was doing. It was fun for the first few days, then it got really irritating.”

“That’s fair,” Otabek replies, letting her go. “Thank you for telling me all this, Ai.”

“I want to see you and Yura happy, okay?” Aisha pokes him in the chest, grinning the whole time. 

“Understood,” Otabek nods very seriously, saluting, and she laughs at him. He hasn’t had a proper chat with his little sister in what feels like months, and it’s a delight to wrap the covers around them and play video games with her. She’s gotten so much better at Smash while he’s been gone, to the point he’s starting to sweat before winning their first match. The light hearted atmosphere disintegrates during Mariokart, and by the time they go to grab a board game for a tiebreaker, both of them hate each other more than anybody in the world. 

Otabek still kisses her on the forehead before he leaves to go visit Yura, despite her brutal win of Connect 4 and subsequent victory. Aisha punches him in the shoulder, laughing, and he salutes to her one more time. 

It’s the best morning he’s had this whole break.

* * *

**Otabek Altin** : I’m coming over to talk.  
**Otabek Altin** : Felt like I owed you the warning at least.  
**Otabek Altin** : I realize now that you might leave because I gave you the warning.  
**Otabek Altin** : Please don’t leave.

* * *

Yuri isn’t home. Otabek knows this because when he tries to approach the house, Potya comes out the cat door, her fur fluffed up to full fluff in respect to the spring chill. Otabek stops halfway down the stone path, looking at her warily. She crinkles her nose at him and hisses, tail waving with displeasure. 

Otabek turns around and leaves. 

He is very afraid of Potya.

* * *

**Otabek Altin** : Okay, you weren’t there.  
**Otabek Altin** : Potya was.  
**Otabek Altin** : Have I ever mentioned how scary Potya is?  
**Otabek Altin** : I’m going to stop texting you now.  
**Otabek Altin** : It looks very desperate without you responding.  
**Otabek Altin** : Though I don’t know whose pride I’m trying to protect by saying I’m not desperate. Because I am a little. Or a lot.  
**Otabek Altin** : Whichever answer you want to be true.  
**Otabek Altin** : The truth it that I miss you a lot.  
**Otabek Altin** : I’m going to actually stop texting you now.

* * *

He finds Yuri at the park, sitting at the top of the same hill they sledded down months ago. It’s very wet now, on account of the final layer of ice finally melting, and the rain that started pouring down about an hour ago. Yuri’s soaked, his blonde hair painted brown for the day, clothes plastered to his skin. They’re just sweats and a hoodie, nothing Yuri cares about. Otabek doesn’t actually know whether he should be more concerned about the fact that Yuri’s apparently been sitting in the rain for an hour, or that Yuri went outside in sweats and a hoodie. 

He goes to make a comment about the lack of fur print, before realizing that might come off as dismissive of their fight. Then he thinks maybe he’ll just open by saying sorry, but he’s not actually that sure of what he’s apologizing for any more. Yuri’s lonely, but Otabek can’t fix that in any permanent sense immediately. Should he just say he’s sorry for not being here? How sincere would that even sound to Yuri, who’s already heard it a dozen times? How would that help make Yuri feel better? Maybe he should just say hello. 

“Hello,” Otabek says. 

Yuri turns to stare at him, rain dripping from his brows over his eyes and down his cheeks, skin pale and glistening in the afternoon light. “Yeah? What the fuck do you want?”

That was the wrong option. “Uh,” Otabek manages to get out, except he never stutters why is he stuttering, “I’m sorry I haven’t been here.”

“I don’t need you here.” Yuri turns away, posture as dismissive as his voice. Otabek doesn’t leave, just hovers with his umbrella.

Option two was also bad. Nice. “Sorry. I haven’t put my mouth in my foot this badly in a while.”

“Your…” Yuri looks back at him, brows furrowing. “Mouth in your foot?”

“I…don’t know what you want from me.” Otabek shrugs, feeling a little helpless. He doesn’t understand why Yuri’s repeating what he said. 

“No, fuck you,” Yuri splutters out, suddenly sounding out of breath. Otabek startles, looking at Yuri’s expression more closely. Is he… laughing? Yuri’s cheeks are regaining some colour as he struggles not to laugh. “You don’t get to make me laugh right now!” 

“Did I… wait…” Otabek literally wants to die, “I said I put my mouth in my foot. Fuck.”

Yuri lets a final snicker gasp out before clamping up entirely. He looks angrier than before, honestly. There’s a sort of frustration in his eyes that speaks of lots of yelling and bluster and snippets of truth to come. It’s familiar and comforting and Otabek is content to stand in the rain and wait for it. 

He likes the sound of the droplets hitting his umbrella. Like the tolling of bells, they send shivers down his spine.

Yuri sniffs. He’ll probably get sick again from the rain.

Otabek resists the urge to cover him with the umbrella. It would just make Yuri angrier. 

“Don’t assume just because I laughed at you being stupid I’m not angry. Fuck, don’t make me laugh! You don’t get to just repair things with a few stupid jokes!” Yuri finally snaps. 

“I know,” Otabek replies. “I’m being serious, I promise.”

“It’s manipulating as hell,” Yuri continues, refusing to acknowledge Otabek’s words, “Like what, just cause you made me laugh suddenly all our problems are gone? I don’t… I don’t want to be your friend any more, and one fucking joke won’t change that.”

“Okay,” Otabek says. “I understand. It’s frustrating. You feel like I was trying to get on your good side while skipping over all the actual problems you have. Which is very similar to how being friends with me these past few months has probably felt, as I neglected to notice how you were doing.”

“I was doing fine,” Yuri grumbles. “But… yeah. Frustrating.”

Otabek feels so awkward standing now. He really wants to sit down even if that means getting mud all over his jeans. “May I sit?”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Yuri.” Otabek leans his umbrella away from Yuri so that the excess moisture doesn’t drip on him, not that it matters all too much, and winces a little at the sensation of the damp grass soaking through his jeans. At least they’re at eye level now. “You’re an incredibly strong person, and I admire that about you more than my words can say. I truly don’t think you need me. I think that if you kept going without me, you would be fine, because of how strong you are.”

“Oh,” Yuri says, voice wavering into something high-pitched and desperately sad. 

“But I’m not strong enough for that.” Otabek turns his gaze onto Yuri, voice growing a little louder without him meaning for it too. “I admire your strength because it’s something I don’t have. I’m a weak, selfish person, who is going to ask to be your friend still despite you turning me away. You don’t need me, but I need you.”

Yuri turns to look at him, rain dripping over his face in the facsimile of tears. When he speaks, it sounds like a sob is hiding behind every word, but still he refuses to cry. He always refuses to cry. “I’m not strong. What are you even talking about? God, I’m a fucking mess. You’re weak? If you’re weak, I’m a worm.” 

“You’re not a worm,” Otabek replies. 

“Obviously I need you,” Yuri draws his legs up to hug to his chest, defensive in his vulnerability. “Look at me, I’m sitting in the rain in your pajamas. It’s so pathetic, I might as well be Viktor in his pining over Yuuri stage. Shit.”

“You’re not pathetic, either,” Otabek says. He’s so firm that Yuri actually looks at him in surprise. “Maybe neither of us are strong. But neither of us are weak.”

“Maybe we’re just weak apart,” Yuri says. “That’s why you think you’re so much stronger than me. You don’t have to live with all my pathetic-ness when you’re not here.”

“Same is true of me, then.” 

“That’s stupid. This is stupid. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” Yuri shakes his head, throwing water everywhere as his hair finds a new pattern to stick to his skin in. “I was just mad at myself for being so lonely and Viktor-y in missing you.”

“I miss you, too,” Otabek quietly wonders if he should call Viktor and ask him to come talk to Yuri about all this. Yuri always listens to him. Maybe that could be the first real step to fixing this problem, despite Otabek saying he doesn’t know how to fix this. 

“You have everyone else,” Yuri spits back, sounding angry again, which is almost a surprise after his dejection this whole conversation. 

“I’m not lonely,” Otabek assures, “But I still miss you. I’m constantly looking for you in the group before realizing you’re not there, and then the group feels lacking. Sometimes, when you ask me if I have time to chat, not even on video chat, but just to talk, I’ll cancel plans I have with other people. When Mila got her tattoo, she asked me to come with her, and I forgot to tell you about the whole thing because I was too busy flipping through the example book and snapchatting you pictures of the tattoos I thought you’d like.”

Yuri’s silent for a moment before looking back at the ground in front of them. “I wish I was just there already.”

“Getting a tattoo?”

“Shut up,” Yuri says, but he’s laughing now. “Yes, obviously, I wish I was old enough to get a tattoo already.”

“I know life sucks right now, Yura.” Otabek takes the chance and shuffles over, wrapping a careful arm around Yuri’s shoulders. Now they’re both in the rain. Otabek’s umbrella sits to the side, forgotten. “Happiness will come back to you, though.”

Yuri slumps against his side, releasing a breath that seems to take all the tension from his body at once, closing his eyes as he presses his face into Otabek’s chest. “I’ll take your word for it. You’ve never lied to me before.”

“No, I have.” Otabek looks down at Yuri, who blinks up at him with surprise and betrayal. “Do you remember the time when JJ was away from high school for two days with the flu?”

“No,” Yuri squints at him in confusion. “Do you think I pay attention to JJ?”

“Well, JJ was away from school for two days, but it wasn’t because he had the flu. He was helping some of the younger kids at the community centre with their skating and offered to play a game of hockey with them. JJ was outpreforming the kids entirely, and they were getting really angry with him. One of them tripped him and a group of nine year olds descended on JJ with their plastic hockey sticks.” Otabek tries to restrain his smile and fails completely. 

“Oh my god,” Yuri says. 

“He got a minor concussion and a black eye. He also hurt his ankle a little, though that was a minor injury. The worst part was that Isabella was laughing too much at him to come and help him for a bit, according to him.”

“Beka,” Yuri says, “Beka you are my favourite human being alive. Thank you. Thank you for this gift.”

“Well, I’m still working on your song, so the story will have to do for now,” Otabek laughs. He feels a little bad about selling out JJ on that, but refusing to sell out JJ was what started this whole mess in the first place. Seeing Yuri light up like that was worth it. 

“My song?” Yuri pulls his head away from Otabek’s chest, looking up at Otabek with owlish eyes. So close to him. Otabek did not realize how close they were. Well, he did, but also not really. 

“I was trying to make you a song, since you said you liked my music so much.” Otabek shrugs. Casually. Like it was no big deal. 

“Beka! For real?” Yuri forgets where he is, too, planting his hands on Otabek’s thighs and using them as props to sit up properly. Cool. They are inches apart. This is fine. “That’s so cool! What the hell, why wouldn’t you tell me about that! Stop surprising me with your coolness!”

Otabek listens to Yuri continue for a while, the excited words washing over his ears like the sweetest music. 

They’re gonna be fine. Otabek may have lied to Yuri on the behalf of JJ before, but he’s never lied about anything serious. When he says that Yuri’s going to find happiness again, he means it. 

They’ll keep working on it together. 

As long as they’re together, they’re strong.

* * *

The last day before he has to go back to university, he finishes the songs about Yuri.

One is soft and melodic, warm and beautiful. The other is harsh and incongruent, sharp and loud. 

Otabek calls the rock song “Yuri”, naming it simply after the person it’s for. He stares at the love song for longer, unsure and hesitant. Finally, he types in another one word title, then posts them simultaneously. 

Immediately, his phone pings beside him.

* * *

**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : Beka  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : did u for real  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : call this song  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : Potya????  
**Otabek Altin** : She deserves an equal amount of respect as you.  
**Otabek Altin** : Also, I love her very much.  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : LMFAOOOOOO  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : BEKA THE POTYA SONG IS SO GOOD!!!!!  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : I WAS GONNA LISTEN TO MINE FIRST BUT THE POTYA ONE DISTRACTED ME  
**Otabek Altin** : I’ve been working on the both of them simultaneously, so no worries.  
**Otabek Altin** : I think Potya would kill me instantly if I didn’t dedicate a song to her.  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : Beka  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : is that me humming????? In the potya song???  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : when did u record me humming?????  
**Otabek Altin** : You fool.  
**Otabek Altin** : That’s obviously Potya’s musical talents. Do you know how much I had to pay for her to even show up and listen to a demo?  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : holy shit this is so cool  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : i cant believe im in one of your songs and then u named the other one after me  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : im gonna have to skate a routine to these songs now u realize  
**Otabek Altin** : Go for it. Welcome to the Madness.  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : WHAT DOES THAT PHRASE MEAN  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : I NEED TO LISTEN TO MY SONG  
**Otabek Altin** : B)  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : BEKKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA  
**Otabek Altin** : Yura, I have only one question for you.  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : ???  
**Otabek Altin** : Do these songs make you happy?  
**Simba the Tiny Angry Lion** : Uh OBVIOUSLY  
**Otabek Altin** : Then I’ll just have to keep making you them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so happy to finally get this chapter out. It's been like 90% completed for so long.... bless spring break for finally letting me finish it!!


	3. Summer (And Everything Past That)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! This is the final chapter of this fic. I've had a blast working on this for the past year and a bit (has it been two years???????? I barely remember at this point) and I'm wildly proud of what I've written here in all honesty. I hope you've all enjoyed reading and will enjoy this final chapter!

**Cat No JJ:** It has been Many Moons since I saw you, my dear Otabek  
**Cat No JJ:** Do not turn your head if i look different… Changed…. more hideous…  
**Otabek Altin:** Did you cut your hair?  
**Cat No JJ:** ya but only a little, its just above my shoulders rn  
**Cat No JJ:** its too fckin hot for it to be that long  
**Cat No JJ:** im still pretty dw  
**Otabek Altin:** How would it make you feel if I told you I started wearing my hair like JJ’s?  
**Cat No JJ:** i’d block u instantly  
**Cat No JJ:** unfollow u on twitter, insta, tumblr, whatever  
**Cat No JJ:** otabek altin: cancelled  
**Otabek Altin:** Wow. I’ve never been ghosted that hard.  
**Cat No JJ:** however many years of friendship down the drain just like that  
**Otabek Altin:** We’ve been friends for around seven years now.  
**Cat No JJ:** yea i know im just lazy  
**Cat No JJ:** hey u didnt actually change ur hair right  
**Otabek Altin:** Nope.  
**Cat No JJ:** thank u for this gift  
**Otabek Altin:** I didn’t even do anything, I just didn’t change my hair.  
**Cat No JJ:** and i will thank u for it every day of ur life until u change ur hair and then i will leave u instantly  
**Otabek Altin:** Hey, in all seriousness, I’m really looking forward to this summer and next year.  
**Otabek Altin:** I’ve missed you a lot.  
**Cat No JJ:** we talk everyday u dork  
**Cat No JJ:** no but for real ive missed u a lot too  
**Cat No JJ:** and i cant wait to see u again

* * *

It took Otabek a year to start thinking of Yuri as his best friend. From the first moment he saw Yuri’s eyes, a spark had ignited in Otabek that simply commanded him to be friends with Yuri. For months, however, he hadn’t thought Yuri had that same spark. The two of them hung out at school. Occasionally, they played together outside of school. They were kids uncertain of both themselves and each other, unwilling to commit to a full throttle friendship but always conveniently free when the other was free. 

Sometimes they fought, though they always made up. 

It was always Otabek that apologized first. 

Yuri, as a ten year old, was pretty abrasive and rude. He was determined to a fault and sometimes forgot that Otabek had his own pace of doing things. Yuri would demand things went his way and got mad when they didn’t. It was like his body was too small to contain all his anger and perfectionism, forcing it to spill over onto other people. 

Otabek had at the time admired these qualities about Yuri, though he knew other people saw them as flaws. It’s not that Otabek didn’t get mad when Yuri went too far… he just felt like Yuri was motivated in a way that Otabek wasn’t. Otabek never knew how to drag people into his pace of doing things, never knew how to be anything other than passive and polite. He simply went with the flow as best he could. 

He’d aspired to be like Yuri- to be so passionate about things that if the path he wanted to take was supposedly impossible, he’d lay down the bricks to walk on himself. 

For a year, Otabek had quietly felt like he was the only one extending a hand. Yuri was probably only accepting it because Otabek had been so pushy about wanting to be his friend. It could have been anyone asking Yuri to be friends and Yuri would have been fine with it. 

In retrospect, this feels stupid. 

Otabek was only twelve years old, and he was blind to things in the way that children are. Even- especially- when they believe they know everything that’s going on. 

On his thirteenth birthday, Yuri gave Otabek a gift card to a bookstore. At the time, this had been heartbreaking- a gift card was what was given as a courtesy gift. They were the most basic of basic gifts. 

To him, that gift card might as well have spat in his face the message that Yuri didn’t really care about him.

He’d forgotten the heartbreak over the gift card after a couple weeks or so and hadn’t brought up the issue with Yuri until months later, in the middle of an entirely different argument. It had been one of those underlying aggravations that surfaced in the sea of emotions during a yelling match, and Otabek had lashed out with it without a shred of hesitation. To his complete shock, for one of the first times in their whole relationship, Yuri had been utterly taken aback. The words left him. A flash of vulnerability had crossed over Yuri’s face and there was enough hurt visible in his eyes for Otabek to instantly regret bringing up the issue. 

Before Otabek could say anything, though, Yuri’s mask of anger had settled back into place. He was quick to defend himself, outrage so thick in his tone that any other emotion could be masked. Thus, Yuri struck home the blow that won the argument for him and cemented their friendship for the rest of their lives:

The gift card had been the first birthday gift Yuri had ever gotten anyone. 

He’d never had the friends to give gifts to before. After visiting Otabek’s house to play video games so many times, Yuri had noticed that Otabek was reading a series that a new book had come out for, and thought that he should get that book for him. However, he didn’t know if Otabek already had the new book, so he thought it would be safer to just get him a gift card. 

After that entire argument and misunderstanding, Otabek decided he would be honest about things that were bothering him instead of bottling them up. He started looking at Yuri in a different way. He noticed things he hadn’t before. 

Yuri doesn’t apologize first, but after they make up, Yuri always mysteriously disappears. When Otabek’s 14, he follows Yuri for the first time after they make up from a fight and finds Yuri crying. He discovers that Yuri cries out of relief rather than turmoil, and Yuri can’t help but cry from the relief of the two of them still being friends. 

Yuri might drag Otabek into things without bothering to ask whether Otabek wants to do that thing, but at the first sign of literally any other person bothering Otabek, Yuri’s in their face in an instant. If Otabek hesitates for half a second on saying yes to someone, Yuri notices. If Otabek’s uncomfortable in a situation for a single moment, Yuri notices. Yuri notices, and he forces his way into the situation, and he says everything that Otabek wishes he was brave enough to say. 

So, Otabek feels fairly secure in their friendship by the time he’s 15 and Yuri’s 13. They passed the threshold of being in different schools, and their friendship survived. They had started developing legitimate interests in the world around them instead of just video games and toys, and had no problem talking about those interests together. Yuri helped Otabek be more confident and determined. Otabek helped Yuri be more patient and kind. 

They had a few beautiful years where this didn’t change. 

Then Yuri turned 16 and Otabek suddenly couldn’t breathe around him. Everything that Otabek had found admirable and aspirational was suddenly shockingly attractive. Otabek didn’t want to be like Yuri anymore- Otabek quite liked who he was, after all the strengthening of self he’d done over the years- but he desperately wanted Yuri to be by his side. In the past, in the present, in the future. Forever. Otabek didn’t want to know what a future without Yuri would be like. What a barren place. A desert of lost possibilities and forgotten dreams, filled with bittersweet memories and melancholy melodies. 

He’d settled into his new reality gradually, slowly working Yuri off the pedestal he’d been propped up onto. Yuri wasn’t perfect, and Otabek reminded himself of that until he could catch his breath around the boy he’d idolized his whole childhood. He let himself love Yuri wholly and purely, without needing anything in response. Put up a few walls that were necessary, so that if this whole in-love-with-him thing didn’t work out, Otabek wouldn’t be utterly crushed under the realization that Yuri didn’t love him back in that way. Even if that thought kept him awake at night. Even if that thought comes to him sometimes in the middle of the day and all the blood in his body turns to ice in his veins and spreads chills down his bones. 

Maybe this will all turn out like his friendship with Yuri years ago, where it turned out the whole time that Yuri had cared about Otabek just as much as Otabek cared about Yuri. Maybe. 

Hopefully. 

Otabek refuses to agonize over it too much because he doesn’t want his feelings to colour every interaction he has with Yuri, but it’s starting to become a little much. 

Take right now, for example. 

Yuri’s frowning in concentration, two daisies held in his fingers. He’s trying to make a daisy chain, something Aisha apparently taught him how to make. Otabek thinks Yuri may have lied about being quite proficient in the art of daisy chains. They’re at the top of the same hill in the park where Yuri and him made up during spring break, except now it’s summer and it’s finally properly warm. Sunlight spills over the both of them, turning Yuri’s hair flaxen gold and lighting up his eyes with a luminescent glow. The trees are emerald green and full of leaves and the grass is littered with daisies. A breeze tumbles through the park, blowing gently over their skin, blessedly cool under the sun. 

Yuri leans in closer to his daisies, carefully creating a hole in the stem of one and trying to thread the other one through. The smile that appears on his face when he manages to do so is full of triumph and pride, and he turns to Otabek for praise.

Otabek’s content watching with a smile on his face, but when Yuri turns to him looking like that- like Otabek’s approval is all he wants, like the two of them being here together is making him so stupidly happy- the only thing that Otabek can say is, “I love you.”

Yuri’s smile fades. He lowers the daisies and leans closer to Otabek, tilting his head slightly in the way he does when he’s confused. Concern’s evident in his tone when he speaks. 

“Yeah? I love you too, but are you okay? You’re not secretly dying or something, are you?” Yuri asks, raising an eyebrow. “People in movies always spontaneously announce they love someone when they’re dying and don’t want the other person to know.”

Otabek’s heart starts beating again and he wishes he were dying, he wishes he were dead, “I’m fine. It’s a good daisy chain. I meant to say I love it, sorry. I misspoke.”

“Isn’t it great?” Yuri beams at him, holding up the flowers again to show them off properly. “Hold on, I’ll make us both a chain and we can show them off to Aisha.”

“Sounds good,” Otabek says. It’s fine. Yuri doesn’t hate him or not want to be his friend. 

Still, he can’t help but feel disappointed. There’s some kind of hollow ache inside him now, and Otabek can feel another pile of sand heap itself onto the potential desert of lost possibilities and forgotten dreams. Another chance where he could have been brave and vulnerable, and instead settled back into the comfort of normalcy. 

That’s… alright. He’s in no rush. They have years. He won’t mess up like that again, and the time to properly confess to Yuri will surely come. 

He won’t let his feelings for Yuri colour their every interaction. 

He won’t.

* * *

“I love you,” Otabek adds without thinking about it, then quickly continues talking so the remark will get lost in the sea of his words. “Goodnight, have a safe walk home, I’ll talk to you later, see you tomorrow.”

Yuri’s looking back at him oddly, halfway down the path from Otabek’s house. It’s dark, almost midnight, and Yuri’s dressed in a loose camisole and jean shorts- it’s a look that’s as flattering to Yuri as it is bad for Otabek’s health and safety. The only light illuminating Yuri is coming from the doorway Otabek is still holding open, and it’s creating a dusty white light over Yuri in the darkness. 

“That’s the second time in two days that you’ve said you love me,” Yuri raises an eyebrow, “I’m starting to think you really are dying or something and you’re secretly trying to say your last goodbye.”

“There’s nothing wrong with telling your friends you love them, is there?” Otabek asks, praying to whatever deity is in the mood to help him out. Let him die now. Immediately. Perishing where he stands. Please.

“I guess not.” Yuri shrugs, clearly in a good mood from all the times Otabek let Yuri obliterate him in Mariokart. “Well, seeya! Love you!”

Yuri says it as a joke, teasingly. Otabek waves placidly back before closing his front door at what he hopes is a normal pace. Then he lets himself fall forward slowly, until his forehead rests against the wood with a dull thud.

He needs to sew his mouth shut. 

This won’t happen again if he can help it. Not until Otabek’s ready for it. He’s supposed to be good at this- controlling himself, being careful, making sure his facial expressions aren’t strange or revealing of his thoughts. It’s his specialty, almost. He’s got this. 

Control. It’s all about control.

* * *

**Otabek Altin:** I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to be texting me in the middle of your shift.  
**Cat No JJ:** shut up no ones come by in ten minutes and im bored  
**Cat No JJ:** they dont have any radio or anything its awful here  
**Cat No JJ:** I cant even put in headphones i just gotta wait in silence for some poor passerby to take an interest in our shitty shitty food  
**Cat No JJ:** “yes hello sir do u want stomach cramps in the next half hour? Then i recommend our weird fake meat burgers made with the cheapest bread on offer!!”  
**Otabek Altin:** Do you want me to come visit you?  
**Cat No JJ:** absolutely not  
**Otabek Altin:** A shockingly fast reply. Why not?  
**Cat No JJ:** dont u dare come down here!!!!  
**Otabek Altin:** Nothing you could say would make me head down there faster.  
**Cat No JJ:** ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH fine the uniform sucks and i dont want u to see me in this weird preppy shit  
**Otabek Altin:** Turns out there was one (1) thing you could say that would make me head down there faster.

* * *

Yuri’s cap shades over his eyes and he looks up at Otabek with all the bitterness of a teenager forced to work a summer job. He’s got a blue polo shirt on and white shorts, his long legs bare to the elements. He’s almost making the uniform look stylish. Almost. 

“Your impression of Potya is getting better,” Otabek says in between sips of his drink. “I think you need to add just a little more hatred for me, though.”

“Potya doesn’t completely hate you,” Yuri says. “Just like, 95% hatred. Ugh, I’m so bored.”

The beach is loud around them, people milling about and sunbathing and playing volleyball. Otabek got hit in the face by a frisbee earlier, not that Yuri needs to know about that. Waves crash distantly over rocks and in the distance kids dare each other to jump off the dock. Otabek remembers doing that. It’s a bad idea, everyone belly flops. There’s just something about the angle. Yuri’s working in a food shop along the path at the edge of the beach, selling soda and fries and popsicles. In theory, Otabek wouldn’t be allowed to just stand here and bother one of the shop’s three valuable employees, except that he’s their best business. As long as he buys something and there’s no one else around for Yuri to service, it’s fine that he’s just standing at the counter of the shop. For hours on end. Buying things, over and over. Just to talk to Yuri. 

Otabek takes a silent moment to reflect on how much of a lost cause he is. 

“How are you not boiling hot right now?” Yuri asks, in the way that means he’s really just complaining. “It’s 5000 degrees out. Celsius. That’s how hot it is.”

Looking down at his leather jacket, white t-shirt, and black jeans in surprise, Otabek shrugs. “It’s breathable and we’re in the shade. I’m fine.”

Yuri wrinkles his nose at him, looking longingly at the leather jacket for a second. He’s had to discard his usual sense of style while working here and while Otabek personally feels that seeing Yuri in his work uniform is a privilege, Yuri hates it with the kind of venom he usually reserves for JJ. 

“I’ve said it before, but you really don’t have to spend the whole day here. I’m bored, but I wouldn’t want to keep you from your own exciting summer plans.” Yuri puts his chin in his hands, leaning forward over the counter to rest on his elbows. He peers up at Otabek through golden lashes, slightly pouty with soft pink lips. 

“Uh.” Otabek swallows another sip of his drink. “It’s really not any hassle. I don’t have any summer plans.”

“JJ got in town like two days ago, you should go hang out with him.” Yuri rolls his eyes and looks away, expression fading back to Potya-esque hatred. “Or go swimming in a trash dump, or sunbathe on an active volcano, or any other activity that’s as enjoyable as hanging out with JJ.”

“Ouch,” Otabek replies without any inflection. “Solid burn.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t really trying that hard.” Yuri yawns, covering his mouth with one hand, eyelids falling heavy over his eyes. Otabek can sympathize- the sun’s warmth makes it easy to fall into the veil of sleepiness. Smiling to himself as Yuri’s eyes fall closed, Otabek pops open the top of his drink. Silently scooping out a half-melted ice cube, he leans over and pops the ice cube down the slightly loose neck of Yuri’s work shirt. Immediately, Yuri shrieks and shoots upright, grabbing for the bottom of his shirt as the ice cube falls down to where it’s tucked into his shorts. “Otabek! You stupid- oh my god, I fucking hate you!”

“Can’t fall asleep on the job,” Otabek says. “Sleep is worthless next to valuable time spent helping customers.”

“You’re the worst,” Yuri spits as he finally untucks his shirt and the mostly melted ice cube falls out the bottom. “I hope you overheat in your stupid leather jacket.”

“Speaking of helping customers,” Otabek says, “Can I get a refill? I need more ice.”

Yuri glares up at him, scowl darkened by his cap, slowly tucking his shirt back in. 

“Oh, there it is!” Otabek suddenly exclaims, leaning in. Yuri jumps back a bit in surprise, then frowns in confusion. Otabek sighs, looking away in disappointment. “For a second there, you perfected your Potya impression. 100% hatred of me.”

“Die,” Yuri says, “Go jump off the dock and belly flop and perish instantly. Hang out with JJ, I don’t even want you here anymore. I’m not even lying this time.”

Otabek pulls out a five dollar bill and places it on the counter, ignoring Yuri. “I want an ice cream cone as well.”

“Of course you do,” Yuri snarls. “Fine. Coming right up, valued customer.”

“Thank you very much,” Otabek says as Yuri turns to refill his drink. “I’m going to tip you 200%.”

“Go away already!” Yuri snaps, turning to face him quickly and mashing the lid of Otabek’s drink back on so hard that the entire thing crumples and explodes in his hands, leaking water everywhere and leaving Yuri soaked. 

There’s a moment of silence. 

Otabek can’t help it- he starts to laugh. Yuri opens his mouth on an inhale so loud that Otabek can hear it, visibly shaking with anger, crushed drink still in his hands and dripping all over him, clearly about to start yelling. Then he stops.

Otabek laughs, and Yuri stares at him. Otabek means to stop, wanting to ask Yuri if something’s wrong, but the heat of the sun on the back of his neck and the look on Yuri’s face is leaving him stupid with laughter. Yuri just keeps staring, expression unreadable.

Finally it’s weird enough that Otabek’s laughter falls away, and he’s just left staring back. “...Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Yuri says, not looking away. His voice is calm, monotonous. “I’m fine. Just wet.”

“I do… still want a new drink.” Otabek feels kind of sheepish as he says this. He doesn’t look away, and neither does Yuri. 

“Yeah,” Yuri responds. He even nods this time. “Got it.”

Finally, the moment breaks, and Yuri turns to get Otabek a new cup and clean up a little. Otabek looks to the ocean, needing a mental breather. Watches the waves come in, rolling white over the deep blue. 

Otabek doesn’t go hang out with JJ. Yuri’s shirt dries within the hour. The moment passes without Otabek asking about it again or Yuri explaining it. They just hang out, and Otabek never proclaims his love, but something feels weird anyways. 

It takes two hours for Otabek to realize that Yuri won’t meet his eyes.

There’s a tension between them that wasn’t there before, and Otabek has no idea why.

* * *

“What the fuck are you wearing?” Yuri asks before he’s taken more than two steps into the cafe. Otabek looks down at his clothes, then back up at Yuri with confusion. 

“My normal clothes,” He responds, not understanding the problem. 

“Are you kidding me? I’ve gotta wear the clothes of a preppy yacht club kid and you can just wear your normal clothes?” Yuri walks up to the counter, slamming his hand on the plastic surface and narrowing his eyes at Otabek. “Trade jobs with me.”

It’s not like Otabek doesn’t have a source of revenue, since he takes jobs DJing at parties a lot at university. There’s a small amount of income from the music he’s posted online as well. With his parent’s support, he’s doing alright for himself. It helps that he’s not really the type to just go shopping for the fun of it. That’s more Yuri’s style. So, no, he didn’t really need to get a job. Except Yuri has a job, and Otabek has been banned from standing around there for hours waiting for Yuri to get off work. It made Yuri feel guilty for quote-on-quote “stealing his summer away from him”. Now he has hours and hours of time to fill up with things that aren’t related to Yuri. It’s not like he’s lacking in hobbies to keep him entertained, but the whole point of coming home is really to hang out with Yuri as much as possible, and hanging out on his own just feels… hollow. 

Mila had been the one to offer him the job at this cafe, claiming she was friends with the owner’s son. Apparently, it had been her old job, but she quit after Sara got home from visiting her family. Otabek likes the atmosphere in here. Creamy white walls covered in colourful art, wooden tables with tall crystal vases and pretty pink flowers. The sun streams in through huge windows at the front of the cafe, keeping the room warm and bright. The menu’s on a chalkboard above Otabek’s head, with a glass container displaying some of the sweeter confections just down the counter from him. 

He’s just working part-time, so he’s almost off work, but Yuri’s shift happens to end a half hour before Otabek’s. Yuri just goes home usually, but today he’s apparently decided to come bother Otabek at his job for the first time. 

His blonde hair’s tied back in a ponytail, strands of it hanging loose in front of his face. It’s long enough now to brush over Yuri’s shoulders, bleached paler gold by the sun. There’s a dust of freckles over Yuri’s nose, just barely visible if you really look. The everpresent, heavy heat outside has prompted him to wear an off-the-shoulder, pale pink crop top with a dark pattern of a roaring tiger emblazoned across the front. Ripped jean shorts sit high on his hips, leaving a slip of toned stomach free to the world. 

Otabek’s trying not to stare. 

“So?” Yuri asks, his bitterness fading into a teasing smile. “I’m a customer. Give me the script.”

“There’s no script,” Otabek says. “Do you have a script?”

“Yeah, Otabek, I was handed a 200 page movie script on my first day of the job.” Yuri rolls his eyes, leaning forward across the counter and propping his chin on his hand. “No, there’s no actual script. I wanna hear your customer service voice. How dead inside are you?”

Otabek sighs, briefly rolling his eyes before beginning his spiel. “Hello, how are you?”

“You sound normal,” Yuri pouts. “Do you just constantly talk in your customer service voice? Have I never actually heard Otabek Altin’s real voice?”

“Maybe I just actually wanted to know how you’re doing,” Otabek says with a shrug. “Maybe I’m being genuine.”

Yuri rolls his eyes again, much more dramatically and purposefully than last time. He leans back, the fabric of his crop top riding up a little. “C’mon, you’re so lame.”

“Your face is lame,” Otabek counters mindlessly, looking over at the clock on the far wall. Ten minutes left before five. Shift almost over. The sunlight through the window is as brilliant as always, making it a little hard to look out on the street. Refracting rays of light that make Yuri’s eyes almost colourless as he looks at Otabek. Clear as crystals. 

Otabek lets his own eyes slip closed, enjoying the warmth of the day and the soft music playing in the background. The soft tapping of keyboards as people go about their own business, taking care of their own problems and working on their own projects. Yuri’s silent, though the wood under his feet creaks as he shifts his weight. 

In his daydreams, Yuri and him are a couple. Yuri would pick him up from work every day, and they’d spend their evenings together. Go out for dinner sometimes. Hang out on the beach, at the docks, in Otabek’s room. Otabek could play with the fabric of Yuri’s crop top and Yuri would yell at him for putting his cold hands on Yuri’s bare skin. Yuri would laugh despite himself, scolding Otabek, reaching up for a kiss in apology… 

“Hey, Otabek?” Yuri asks, breaking Otabek out of the fantasy and back into reality. He’s looking away now, over at the display of cakes and muffins down the counter. His eyes are back to their normal shade of green, shadows falling over his face. “You’ve dated people in university, right?”

“... Yes,” Otabek responds, as one might make a life-altering decision. With great care, lots of deliberation, a healthy dose of uncertainty, and worries about where this might go. “I tried going out with some people.”

“Did you like any of them?” Yuri asks, eyes flicking back up to Otabek’s face. 

“Sure. They were nice. As lots of people are nice.” Otabek keeps his voice carefully neutral.

“‘They were nice.’ That sounds like you’re talking about the weather or something. ‘It sure was a nice day, as lots of days are nice’.” Yuri looks away again, tucking a strand of hair that’s getting in his eyes behind his ear. 

Yuri doesn’t ask anything else, and the logical part of Otabek knows that means Otabek’s allowed to stop talking about this. Then there’s the stupid gay part of Otabek, which makes about 90% of his decisions these days, who decides to keep talking anyways. “I suppose that’s why I’m not still going out with any of those people. The first guy was kind and funny, but the relationship was… unfulfilling, I guess. For both of us. He wanted me to be more passionate and interested in him. I thought I already was being those things.”

“He couldn’t read you. Not like I can.” Yuri says it like he’s proud, like there’s no one else in the whole world who understands Otabek like Yuri. Like Yuri likes it that way. 

Otabek likes it that way, too. 

“What about the other people?” Yuri asks, leaning forward again. Now that Otabek’s started talking about it himself, Yuri’s being a lot more open about how curious he is. “Why did you not like them?”

“There was only one other person who I was actually interested in,” Otabek answers. “He was, I’m not going to lie, a bit of an asshole. I guess I thought his asshole thing was a veil for a heart of gold. Turned out he was just genuinely an asshole.”

“Are you confessing you were interested in JJ?” Yuri asks. “Is that what I’m hearing right now?”

“Shut up, JJ’s not an asshole,” Otabek says, but he can’t help but laugh alongside Yuri. “Good one, though.”

Yuri’s silent for a minute then, and Otabek spies the clock again. It’s the end of his shift. He’s free to leave. It kind of feels weird announcing that right now, with Yuri staring at the counter with his brows furrowed, clearly thinking hard. With the atmosphere where it is, the conversation where it is. Otabek holds his tongue, waiting for whatever Yuri has to say next. 

“It’s a good thing you’re not still dating those people.” Yuri looks up at Otabek, with those crystal clear eyes. “You deserve someone who understands you. Someone who would always choose you first.”

Otabek’s heart stops beating and his tongue feels like molten metal as he tries to find the words to respond. He can feel the heat on his face, can feel himself lighting up like a firecracker with blush, and it’s impossible to keep a neutral expression at this point. What the hell does Yuri mean by that? Why has he been asking all these questions about dating? What the fuck is going on right now?

Yuri looks away, glancing over at the wall before his eyes widen. “Oh, hey, we’re stupid. Otabek, it’s already five. We can get going.”

“Yeah,” Otabek replies mindlessly, the word empty and void of any real meaning. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Yuri raises an eyebrow, clearly teasing Otabek at this point. 

“Yeah,” Otabek says. 

Yuri doesn’t bring up the topic again, not as Otabek packs up, not as they get back to Otabek’s house, not as they head to Yuri’s house to help his grandpa with dinner. Not as they’re cleaning dishes together later, and Yuri starts playfully bumping Otabek’s hip with his like usual. Not as they hang out in Yuri’s room after, doing their own social media things while occasionally sending each other posts just to hear the other snort with laughter or yell in aggravation. 

It’s a totally normal evening. 

By night, Otabek’s heading home, and he’s pretty sure Yuri meant the whole thing in the most platonic way possible.

After all, Yuri doesn’t think of him that way.

* * *

**Cat No JJ:** r u ready for me to come over and blast ur ass in smash  
**Otabek Altin:** I’ve been playing with Aisha all day in prep.  
**Otabek Altin:** I think she’s gotten worse from playing with you.  
**Otabek Altin:** You’re dragging her down to your level, you fiend.  
**Cat No JJ:** aisha is a demon child who definitely cheats  
**Cat No JJ:** also i cant believe shes not kicking ur ass at that game  
**Otabek Altin:** No, she’s definitely kicking my ass.  
**Otabek Altin:** I’ve won about one in five games.  
**Cat No JJ:** She’s better than u at mariokart too right??  
**Otabek Altin:** Yeah.  
**Otabek Altin:** You too, right?  
**Cat No JJ:** no!!!  
**Otabek Altin:** ...  
**Cat No JJ:** … yes  
**Otabek Altin:** So Aisha’s better than both of us at Smash and both of us at Mariokart.  
**Cat No JJ:** aishas not allowed to play video games with us anymore  
**Otabek Altin:** She’s transcended our level of play.  
**Cat No JJ:** who are we mere mortals to try and play with a god  
**Otabek Altin:** But yeah, come on over. Aisha’s going over to a friend’s house right now anyways.  
**Cat No JJ:** omw

* * *

They’re playing Super Smash Bros Melee, both of them sitting cross legged on the floor, leaning back against Otabek’s bed frame. The windows are wide open, a fan going in the corner, and yet the both of them are still perishing from the heat. It’s like their skin melts into every surface they touch. Yuri’s wearing a loose blue tank top with the word ‘MILF’ written across it in neon pink letters. Otabek’s pretty sure Mila gave it to him for his birthday. The too-big top came with a fun game attached, which Otabek likes to call ‘how many ways can Yuri move which causes a nip slip?’. There’s no winning the game, just dying over and over again and restarting. The tank top’s long enough to mostly cover Yuri’s booty shorts, which are bright red with white seams. Not that Otabek’s been looking, but he’s pretty sure they read ‘ARE YOU NASTY?’ across the ass. It’s a toss up whether Mila or Viktor got him those. There’s even a chance Yuri bought them for himself. 

No leopard print, no leather, no uniform, and it’s still the worst outfit Yuri’s worn all summer. 

“You wanna know what’s funnier than 25?” Otabek asks casually as Yuri scowls at the screen before them, struggling to find a way out of the flurry of Otabek’s attacks. 

With a loud crash, Yuri’s character goes flying off the edge of the platform, and Yuri turns to scowl at Otabek. “You distracted me! How am I supposed to win if you’re talking?” 

“Do you want to know what’s funnier than 25?” Otabek asks again, not bothering to hit next, focussed entirely on Yuri. 

“...What?” Yuri asks, dropping his controller to stare at Otabek. He does not look willing to laugh at a joke right now. That’s fine, they’ll switch to Mariokart soon. 

“26,” Otabek responds. 

Yuri’s silent, mouth not even twitching. 

Otabek looks back at the Super Smash Bros Melee screen, moving forward to the next match. His own mouth doesn’t move an inch. There’s no muffled laughter. Yuri picks up his controller, dead silent. In the corner, the fan whirs. 

“Hey,” Otabek says as the next match starts. 

“What.”

“What’s funnier than 26?”

Yuri smashes his finger over the button in the middle of the controller, pausing the game an instant before Otabek was about to land the first hit of the match. Their characters are frozen in place, the moment before tragedy struck. Otabek half expects Yuri to quit the match right then and there, but instead Yuri turns to look at him. As seriously as Otabek’s ever heard Yuri about anything, he stares Otabek right in the eye. “Otabek. Don’t do this.”

Otabek stares back at Yuri, raising his chin slightly in defiance. Voice low, over the white noise of the fan. Not looking away. Not blinking. “27.”

Yuri stands up, leaving the game paused and his controller on the floor. Without saying anything, he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Otabek shrugs, leaving the game paused as he pulls out his phone. Browsing twitter, he likes a few tweets and retweets one of Yuri’s recent tweets- just a picture of Potya- before the door opens again. Lemonade in hand, Yuri blinks down at Otabek as he sips loudly out of the straw he found in Otabek’s children. 

“That looks good” Otabek says, putting down his phone. “Did Aisha make lemonade?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty good,” Yuri responds. He steps over Otabek, plopping down into his spot with the exhaustion that’s born of constant, unrelenting heat. “You’ll have to go get your own.”

“That’s fine,” Otabek says. Picking up his controller, he waits for Yuri to put the lemonade down on Otabek’s desk, grab his controller and unpause the match before speaking again. “Hey, you know what’s funnier than 27?”

“Stop!” Yuri yells. His controller slams into the ground as he throws it down, turning to Otabek with absolutely unbridled rage. The match continues in front of them, Yuri’s character going idle as buttons stop being pressed. Respectfully, Otabek stops attacking him, instead turning to look Yuri dead in the eyes. 

“69,” Otabek says. 

Yuri’s mouth is still half open from whatever he was going to yell next, and the words die in his throat as he stares at Otabek. There’s a clear moment of recalculation, numbers flying in front of his face as he realizes what he just heard and appreciates it in full. Then, completely uncontrolled, Yuri starts to laugh. “Oh my god, fuck you.”

“It’s truly the funniest of numbers,” Otabek says, unable to help a smile of his own as he watches Yuri wheeze. “Sixty-nine. The pinnacle of humour.”

“I fucking hate you,” Yuri says through his snorting laughter, “Shut up.”

“Wow, thanks, love you too,” Otabek replies on reflex. Then runs out of words to say, sarcastic or otherwise. Fuck. He’s not supposed to say that kind of thing anymore. 

Yuri’s laughter dies out, and he turns back to the game. Picking up his controller and moving on like nothing happened. 

Because really, nothing happened.

Otabek picks up his controller as well, feeling all the words that he wants to say curling up in his throat. The only words that he’s ever managed to say are accidental slips of the tongue. Something that found its way through the cage he’s put around his stupid gay heart. 

They keep playing Super Smash Bros Melee, knees inches apart, and nothing happens. 

Nothing will ever happen, like this.

* * *

**Cat No JJ:** hey r u going to phichits party?  
**Otabek Altin:** I don’t think it’s a real party.  
**Otabek Altin:** It’s more of a hangout for the old gang, since we’re all finally in town.  
**Cat No JJ:** since when was that not a party  
**Cat No JJ:** theyre more fun than a “real party”  
**Otabek Altin:** Honestly, you’re right.  
**Cat No JJ:** whos coming then?  
**Otabek Altin:** you, me, Mila, Sara, Phichit, Viktor, Yuuri, JJ, Isabella- those are all the people I know for sure. Anyone else is a toss up.  
**Cat No JJ:** theres so many people i hate in that list  
**Otabek Altin:** I’m also in the list, and you don’t hate me. You don’t hate Yuuri, either. Or Mila.  
**Cat No JJ:** no i definitely hate mila and yuuri  
**Otabek Altin:** But not me?  
**Cat No JJ:** ur cool i guesssssss  
**Otabek Altin:** I think we’re meeting at Phichit’s house first. He keeps hinting that he’s got some kind of surprise planned?  
**Cat No JJ:** im instantly incredibly suspicious  
**Otabek Altin:** Phichit does not inspire trust in this kind of situation, no.  
**Cat No JJ:** ive only just heard about the surprise and phichit is already on thin fucking ice here  
**Otabek Altin:** If you don’t like whatever he’s planning, we can just leave.  
**Cat No JJ:** And expose vulnerability in front of my greatest enemies??? I dont THINK SO  
**Otabek Altin:** I know you’re joking around, but for real, if you ever get uncomfortable or don’t want to be there anymore or you’re about to lose your head, just let me know and I’ll come up with something and get us out of there.  
**Cat No JJ:** thanks, beka  
**Cat No JJ:** and ik u usually keep a level head and all and im the one always flipping out but if u need anything from me u just have to let me know and ill be there  
**Otabek Altin:** Yeah, thanks.  
**Cat No JJ:** <3  
**Otabek Altin:** <3

* * *

“It’s like I still have to be straight around him, you know?” Yuri says, falling back on the blanket with a soft thud, his arm flopping over his face. “He knows I’m gay. He said he was fine with it. But he just goes silent when it comes up, like he doesn’t know what to say about it. That’s fine, I guess. I don’t know. I just want… more. Maybe I’m greedy, but I don’t just want him to… accept it? I want him to celebrate it. Fuck, that’s so spoiled sounding.”

“No, it’s fair,” Yuuri responds, his voice soft and calming. He’s got Viktor draped over his shoulder, the two of them hovering over Yuri like doting parents. As they have been the entire evening thus far. “He’s your grandpa, and you love him. It’s not wrong to want that same kind of love in return. Especially because he’s usually so celebratory of your hobbies.”

Viktor’s nodding along knowingly as Yuuri keeps talking, probably barely even listening to what Yuuri’s saying but knowing Yuuri’s right. Yuuri’s usually right about these kinds of things. Otabek’s missed him more than he realized. 

“I’ve already got you losers,” Yuri says begrudgingly, “Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“When have you ever settled for ‘enough’?” Viktor asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve changed so much since I last saw you, Yurio.”

“Shut up, old man,” Yuri snaps back, but there’s no fire in his voice. He keeps looking up at the stars above them, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore the only sounds for a few moment. Otabek shifts on the flannel blanket Phichit brought, feeling the sand move underneath him. 

Phichit had the whole evening planned out from the start. Once everyone arrived at his house, they’d had dinner and drinks, before Phichit dragged them down to the beach. Otabek had felt like he was herding toddlers, with the way everyone dawdled on the way. JJ kept insisting he knew a faster route, and Isabella and Phichit followed him as he led them away, like baby ducks after their mother. Mila had probably had a few too many drinks at Phichit’s, and she completely sidetracked Sara by dragging the two of them over to the old elementary school playground as they passed it. Otabek didn’t even realize they weren’t following for a few minutes before he looked back and realized they were gone. He’d found Mila spinning idly on a tire swing, Sara filming the whole thing without a care in the world. Yuuri and Viktor, thank god, were actually moving at a reasonable pace on the right route, so Otabek was free to leave Yuri with them and deal with everyone else. 

After everyone finally got to the beach, Phichit told everyone it needed to be dark before they could do his surprise activity, which meant they had a solid couple hours to kill before night fell. He’d spread out a blanket for people to crash on, left his phone playing on the bluetooth speaker he brought, and then disappeared to take aesthetic pictures for Instagram. Mila and Sara had wandered over to the dock, their legs dangling off the edge. The setting sun washes over the two of them, setting Mila’s hair ablaze with fiery light. The evening breeze tangles carelessly through Sara’s hair, pieces of it occasionally slapping Mila in the face and making her laughter carry endlessly over the sea. 

JJ and Isabella have gotten wrapped up in a game of frisbee with a couple complete strangers, their competitive streaks flaring up with a vengeance after JJ got hit in the face by the stray frisbee. Otabek’s honestly not entirely sure how that exchange went down, but at one point everyone was yelling in anger and now it’s been half an hour and the frisbee hasn’t hit the sand once. He’s pretty sure JJ showed the other two players his new song on Soundcloud. 

This leaves Yuuri and Viktor with Otabek and Yuri on the blanket. The loving couple and… the best friends. How long had it taken Yuuri and Viktor to fall in love and confess to each other again? Actually, no. Otabek’s going to choose not to remember that. 

“I don’t know if your grandpa realizes he’s even doing this, Yurio,” Yuuri suggests with a shrug. “It might just be old habits that he hasn’t realized are harmful.”

“Or maybe I’m just being a little bitch about it.”

“Or maybe you’re just being a little bitch about it,” Viktor agrees with a nod. 

“Since when did I care what you thought, Viktor?” Yuri snaps, sitting up with a start. “Like you didn’t come crying to me about liking boys! ‘Oh, Yurio, Yuuri’s just so pretty and he talked to me the other day and I got an erection the size of Mount Everest-’”

“Oh, hm? What was that?” Viktor interrupts loudly, smile growing wide and plastic across his face. “You wanted me to tell everyone about how you once told me JJ was the cutest boy in school?”

“Viktor!” Yuri starts to yell, already scrambling to his feet with violence just barely contained in his voice and eyes. 

“You thought JJ was the cutest boy in school?” Otabek blurts out before he even thinks twice about it. He almost says his next thought, which is along the lines of ‘but I was there too’, before he remembers who exactly he’s talking to and where they currently stand in their relationship. 

Yuri looks about ready to throw himself at Viktor, the only thing stopping him being Yuuri’s timid form between the two of them. Otabek almost thinks Viktor’s about to get away with it, and then Yuuri ducks out from under Viktor’s arm with a gentle pat to Viktor’s face and an encouraging smile. “He’s all yours, Yurio.”

What?

Yuri bursts out laughing as he dives for Viktor, Viktor’s eyes wide and his mouth falling agape as he looks at Yuuri in betrayal. Otabek sees the face of a man who has lost all trust in this cursed world, and he sees the face of the man who has forsaken him. 

It’s a peaceful face. 

Viktor yelps as Yuri rushes around him and starts messing with his perfectly placed hair, yelling something about a bald spot. There’s lots of grabbing hands and triumphant laughter. Otabek looks away, out to the water. He slips his bare feet off the edge of the blanket, letting the sand sift through his toes and knowing he’ll have grit in his socks later on. The sun soaks into his skin, into his bones, and it feels a lot like happiness. Something citrusy and bright, untouchable by any storm. 

The sky’s painted pink and blue, a colour so brilliant no camera could ever capture it. Mountains rise in the distance, their peaks tipped with caps of white, though Otabek can’t imagine a place so cold that snow could exist right now. Whistles of wind and ocean tumble through his ears, drifting melodies of music and chatter from the beach. Mila’s laughter across the water, unafraid to be heard. Victory and glory pouring out of JJ’s voice as he calls for Isabella in joy. Yuri and Viktor screeching as Yuuri breaks up their fight, trying to restore order. 

He closes his eyes, and enjoys the moment. 

It’s a beautiful one, after all. 

The minutes stretch on, time pressing forward with a syrupy sweetness, slow and steady. Otabek’s content to just sit here, watching his friends have fun at the beach and letting Yuri talk about things with Viktor and Yuuri. He’s always thought that Yuri missed the two of them more than Yuri ever wanted to let on. This is doing nothing but proving his point. Sunlight begins to fade behind the mountains, the wind gaining more of a chill to it. Otabek’s grateful he brought his leather jacket to throw on. Gradually, people start to trickle back towards the blanket, returning from whatever they got distracted with over the last hour or so. Just as the stars start to twinkle overhead and the sky darkens into an indigo blanket, Phichit appears with lots of dramatic flair to declare it’s time for the surprise. 

“Do you have a boat?” Mila asks, barely even looking up at Phichit as she plays with Sara’s hair. “A boat would be pretty cool at this point.”

“Um, no,” Phichit replies, the only one standing as everyone on the blanket stares up at him. “We don’t have a boat. You guys have all seen Tangled, right?”

“Like, the movie Tangled?” Isabella asks. “From Disney?”

“Yeah, that Tangled!” Phichit smiles so bright and wide that Otabek really feels like Phichit isn’t reading the group’s mood very well. They’ve been at the beach for over an hour now, just waiting for the sun to go down. Just tell them the goddamn surprise. 

“What about Tangled?” JJ asks, being even less subtle about his irritation than Isabella. Phichit still doesn’t seem to pick up on it, only starting to rummage around in the bag of supplies he brought. 

“I saw this on Instagram first, but it sounded so cool I wanted to try it with you all, so…” Phichit pulls out a stack of what look like white squares of tissue paper from his bag, the squares encased in a layer of plastic to prevent damage. “I’ve got one of these for everyone! Here, Yurio, you can have the first one.”

Yuri takes it, shooting Otabek a bewildered expression as he accepts the plastic encased tissue paper from Phichit. “Yeah, what the fuck is this?”

“They’re lanterns!” Phichit finally explains, handing out more of the packages to everyone else. “They’re pretty delicate, so be careful not to rip them when you open the plastic. I’ve got a lighter in my bag so we can light them, and they’re white tissue paper so we can write things on them before we can send them off. I’ve got some sharpies in my bag.”

“What kinds of things should we write?” Yuri asks, getting handed a sharpie by Isabella, who takes the liberty of going through Phichit’s bag for him and handing things out. 

“Hopes, dreams, things you want to happen, memories that you never want to forget… things like that!” Phichit suggests with a shrug, sitting down with his own lantern beside Yuuri. “Whatever you want, really.”

“Aren’t these bad for the environment?” Mila asks, squinting at her lantern in distrust. “I don’t wanna send these off if something’s gonna eat this tissue paper and die.”

“No, they’re totally biodegradable,” Phichit explains with a swift shake of his head. “Trust me, I was worried about that too and made sure we were good on that front. I mean, they can still be dangerous if you just release them anywhere… you have to make sure the wind direction is good and not too strong, that there’s no trees or buildings in the direction it’s going to fly, and you can’t use them if there’s a burn ban in place or it’s super dry out or anything. It’s all about being properly informed and planning it out perfectly.” 

“Yeah, this seems like the kinda thing that could cause a lot of problems,” Mila says. “So ours are just going to fly out to sea and then dissolve in the water?”

“That’s the plan!” Phichit agrees. “If anything at all goes wrong with any of them, we’ll stop sending them out, I promise.” 

Environmental concerns sated, Mila takes a sharpie pen from Sara and rips open the plastic on her lantern. Otabek does the same, casting a glance over at Yuri as he starts to write something in tiny, quick printing on the side of his lantern. Hopes, dreams, things you want to happen, memories you never want to forget…. Otabek wonders what Yuri’s writing. Wonders what he himself should write. 

What’s his dream? What does he want to happen?

Otabek wants… he wants to stay with Yuri like this. Except not like this at all. 

He wants to be able to say that he loves Yuri without Yuri thinking Otabek’s acting strange. He wants to make Yuri feel so loved that there’s no question about whether or not Otabek loves Yuri. It should be a fact so set in stone that it’s written in the stars when Yuri looks up at them. An echo that Yuri can hear constantly if he tries to listen, like the beating of his own heart. 

What Otabek wants…

“What’re you writing?” Yuri asks, shifting over to Otabek in a quick movement and leaning in to try and see Otabek’s lantern. “Oh, shit, you’ve got nothing. Having trouble thinking of things?”

His blonde hair’s hanging loose around his shoulders, loose and hazy in the dusk. In the darkness, his eyes just look dark, not emerald green. They’re pretty anyways. Freckles dot over his nose, a light blush from the cold sitting high on his cheeks and turning his nose a bit pink. 

Otabek wants Yuri. 

Maybe he should try being serious for once about getting him. 

“Otabek?” Yuri asks, tilting his head slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Otabek finally replies. “I guess I was just thinking about university. I still don’t really know what I want to major in.”

“Oh, who cares about that,” Yuri scoffs. “You’ll figure it out eventually. And if not, you can always just make money off DJing and music, like you love.”

“Ah, yes. The alluring 10-digit figures from Soundcloud downloads… The 0.006 cents per listen to a song from Spotify… The repostings of songs on Youtube with barely any credit…” Otabek shakes his head. “Music’s not a realistic career.”

“You get paid more than that to DJ and we both know it, so shut up and stop whining,” Yuri gripes, shoving Otabek playfully with his left hand. “You make good music. Trust me, I’d know.”

“Thanks, Yuri,” Otabek replies. “I’ll just write that I hope my music can keep becoming more well known.”

“I wrote that I hope one day you can beat me at Mariokart,” Yuri says. 

“Nevermind,” Otabek says, uncapping his sharpie. “I’m going to write that maybe one day you’ll be able to beat me at Super Smash Bros. Maybe one day the both of us can beat Aisha.”

“Now there’s a fantasy,” Yuri says. 

Yuri leans away, going to bother Viktor about something sappy Viktor wrote about Yuuri on his lantern, and Otabek considers his own lantern one more time. He’s written something about music, something about video games, but… 

In tiny writing, on the side, he writes that he loves Yuri Plisetsky, and for once in his life, he’s going to do something about that. 

Later, standing on the edge of the water with cool waves lapping at his feet, Otabek holds his lantern out with one hand while Phichit lights it from underneath. Post-unfolding, the lanterns take on the more traditional cylindrical shape. The flame catches, and the plain white tissue paper lights up from within with the warmest yellow glow, bright and comforting like a miniature sun. It becomes lighter in Otabek’s grip, and tentatively he lets go of it. 

The lantern rises.

His wishes scrawled on the sides, the lantern glows gold and begins to drift upwards and forwards, carried by the wind. Inside, the flame sputters, making the light in the lantern change in delicate patterns. Dark sky above, dark sea below, Otabek watches the single light move forward, charging through the void without a care. 

Soon his friends are scrambling to light another, and other lanterns are joining it in it’s journey through the sky. A party of lights, warm and bright and forever moving forward. 

Otabek watches until the lanterns are just specks of orange in the distance, his feet numb from the chill of the sea. 

He never sees the lanterns fall.

* * *

“Do you think anything interesting actually lives around here?” Yuri asks, falling back against the dock with a thud and a sigh. His skin’s blushing red from the sun, his hair long and splendidly shiny as it falls carelessly against the wood. He’s got on a plain light grey camisole, loose and vaguely effeminate, with a picture of a tiger on the back of it. Otabek’s watched as through the summer, Yuri’s jean shorts have become more and more a part of him, merging with the lower half of his body in some sort of twisted alchemy. He’s pretty sure Yuri may have slept in them last night. Here, they appear again, exposing Yuri’s criminally nice legs to the world. 

Maybe Otabek’s being a little dramatic. 

They’re hanging out on the dock, legs dangling off the edge and feet pointed down at the gray-blue water below. The sun beats down overhead, gloriously warm when the wind roars by and terribly hot when the wind doesn’t. It smells like the sunscreen on their skin and the salt from the waves, a bright blue sky overhead without a cloud in sight. Other people walk by behind them but they’re an afterthought at most, mumbles of activity as they talk and creaking wood as they walk. 

“We live around here, and we’re interesting,” Otabek responds. 

“I’m talking about the sea,” Yuri says. “Like, do you think sharks live around here? That would be so cool.”

“JJ convinced me sharks lived here when I was six.”

“Oh my god.”

“I couldn’t swim in the ocean for years.”

“God, that’s incredible.”

“I’m glad you at least think so. I was terrified of the water for years, so. I’m at least glad my tragedy inspires your comedy.”

Yuri sits up with a start, hair scattered and uncaring of where it falls. Sliding over his bare shoulders. His eyes are alight with passion as he suddenly raises his voice, finding something to make a point about. “Otabek, sharks are so cool! They’re like second only to tigers in coolness. They’re basically the tigers of the sea.”

“You know tiger sharks exist, right?” Otabek asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yea, duh,” Yuri says, rolling his eyes. “Which only proves my point about them being the tigers of the sea further.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re just called that because they have stripes or something.”

“Beka,” Yuri whines, dragging out his name as he flops back onto the dock, arms splayed out dramatically. “You’re not even arguing with me, you’re just commenting on my arguments. Where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh, sorry,” Otabek replies in monotone. “I’ll try and be more contradictory for you.”

“Thanks. This is why you’re my favourite.”

“Screw you. I’m not your favourite.” 

Yuri looks over at him, raising a single eyebrow as Otabek shrugs. Clearly unimpressed, Yuri waits a beat before responding. “Really?”

“Hey, you asked for contradictory.” 

They fade back into silence, enjoying the beating of the waves against the foundations of the dock and the sound of people enjoying themselves at the beach. Otabek leans down, staring further into the waves, entertaining the thought of just letting himself fall off the edge of the dock into the waiting sea below. A cold embrace ready to relieve him of the sun, for just a moment. Just as he’s about to dismiss the thought and drop back onto the dock beside Yuri, a hand presses in against the small of his back. Otabek twists, eyes widening, catching the gaze of Yuri as the hand on his back starts to apply pressure. 

“Yura. Why?” He asks, doing his best to explain the deep seated betrayal he feels in every level of his soul and heart. 

Yuri’s gaze renders Otabek colder than the sea could possibly make him, chilling him straight down to his bones. “To test the limits of my abilities.”

Then Yuri pushes forward, and Otabek falls. And he laughs the whole way down. 

The sea hits with a shock, electric and burning and freezing all at once. Otabek feels the sting of it on his sun-warmed skin, feels the pull of the water as he rises up, feels his clothes start to cling and drag against the currents. As his head breaks the surface he’s instantly blinded by a spray of water in his eyes, Yuri having jumped down to join him. Blonde hair darkening when wet and clinging to his neck, Yuri rises from the water like a bedraggled lion, green eyes sparkling with joy. 

“Did you just reference Naruto at me?” Otabek asks. 

“Believe it,” Yuri responds with a laugh, then grins and lashes out with an arm, hitting Otabek in the face with a wave of water. 

Otabek splutters, pushing back in the water to get some room, then responding with his own splash attack. “Do you really think it was a good idea to challenge me to a splash attack fight? I have a younger sister, you fool.”

Yuri comes down with both hands on the waves, retaliating to Otabek’s initial attack, chasing after him with water. It’s paltry. Laughable. Barely a splash at all. 

“This is the disadvantage of being an only child, Yura!” Otabek cheers, responding with another huge wave attack that catches Yuri right in the mouth as Yuri laughs. “Yield!” 

Yuri splutters, then laughs, barely able to see past the hair in his face and water in his eyes. Raising one hand in Otabek’s direction and using the other to wipe off his face, Yuri starts to blink furiously to clear his vision. “Okay, okay! I yield. You win this battle, Altin.”

Otabek floats over to Yuri, raising a hand to help him move the last of his hair out of his face and behind his ears. Yuri looks at him questioningly, raising an eyebrow. “It’s just hair. I don’t need your help with it.”

“I wanted to help, so I did.” 

“Okay? Weirdo.” Yuri still sounds confused, but he’s smiling, so Otabek lets the tension leak out of his shoulders. 

Flirting is hard. Being brave is hard. Every time Otabek offers a compliment, or banters with Yuri, or touches him or helps him with anything, he’s holding his breath, waiting for Yuri to reject him or tell him to get away. He’s waiting, suffocating, clinging to the faintest ledge for dear life. It’s terrifying.

Otabek isn’t as strong as Yuri thinks he is, and the thought of Yuri not being in his life is the most horrifying thought Otabek’s ever had. The idea that how much he loves Yuri could end up pushing Yuri away instead of pulling him closer makes Otabek’s spine lock up, makes his heart stop in his chest, makes a cold sweat break out across his skin. 

Maybe this will all turn out like his friendship with Yuri years ago, where it turned out the whole time that Yuri had cared about Otabek just as much as Otabek cared about Yuri.

So he’ll keep trying, no matter how terrifying it is. 

Yuri’s worth it. 

He’ll always be worth it.

* * *

Yuri’s jean shorts are almost dry as the light turns golden across the water, the sky fading from a bright blue into soft peach. Otabek’s pretty sure their sunscreen wore off a long time ago, and they were too cool to bring the bottle with them, resulting in the prickling sensation across his shoulders. Yuri looks like he’s caught in a permanent blush. Otabek probably should have made them go home a few hours ago. 

He didn’t want to. 

“Beka?” 

“Yeah?”

Otabek turns to look at Yuri, who’s leaning against Otabek as he stares out over the ocean. They’d left the dock behind a while ago- too much temptation to push each other into the water over and over again, and at some point they had to dry off. They’re sitting on a log on the beach, shoes thrown in a heap at their side. Sand between their toes. 

“We’re kind of stupid, aren’t we?”

Otabek takes a minute to consider Yuri’s placid expression. A minute to consider what Yuri’s trying to imply by saying this. He has no idea, which is always worrying when it comes to Yuri. “I make no such claims. What’s your basis?”

“I mean…” Yuri hesitates, looks down at the sand. Maybe gets a bit redder than before, but who can really tell at this point? “You know, like, whenever I had a crush in high school?”

“Your high school crushes. Indeed, I can now see what you mean by calling us stupid.”

“Beka! Shut up for a minute! I’m trying to say something here!” Yuri yells, lazily pushing at Otabek with one hand. He’s really, terribly red at this point. Avoiding eye contact. Otabek hasn’t seen Yuri this embarrassed to say something since… well, probably a couple days ago, honestly. Still, hardly ever with Otabek. He’s always comfortable talking to Otabek. Otabek prides himself on being easy to talk to for Yuri.

“Alright. I’m being quiet.”

Yuri looks over at their shoes, eyes fixating on anything other than Otabek. The light of the sun catches his eyes in the way that makes them almost colourless. Clear as crystals. So simple, but beautiful enough to take Otabek’s breath away. “Whenever I had a crush in high school, I always told you about it right away. Even when I had a crush on Yuuri for that like, 2 week interval.”

“I definitely remember it being at least half a year, but sure,” Otabek replies with a shrug. 

“What? No, I only liked him for like 2 weeks before I realized he and Viktor were already a done deal. What the hell are you talking about?” 

“You talked about him all the time for like a half year.”

“Yeah, to complain about him. That doesn’t mean I liked him, stupid!” 

“When you first saw him from afar you told me you liked him, then you talked to him briefly and decided he sucked and complained about him for about 5 months, then he and Viktor started getting really close and you briefly got jealous and decided you liked him again. Not to call you out too hard, but you definitely had a crush the entire time.”

Yuri’s indignation flares up and he jumps up from his seat, making an indiscriminate noise of frustration. “Ugh! Beka, come on, I’m trying to talk about something else! You told me you were gonna be quiet!” 

Interesting lack of denial, but alright. Keeping his mouth shut, Otabek shrugs and nods up at Yuri. Not another sound from him. 

Satisfied, Yuri lets out a deep breath, turning to face Otabek again. The setting sun backlights him so it’s hard to see the details of his face, the outline of his hair glowing as it reflects the light. “Okay. So-”

Then Yuri puffs out his cheeks and stops talking, eyes downcast at the sand again. There’s a beat of silence as Otabek waits patiently, then Yuri sags where he stands. “Agh! Why is this so hard? Beka, shut up!”

“I’m not even saying anything,” Otabek replies. 

“You were… thinking really loudly or something, I don’t know!” Yuri closes his eyes, breathes in deeply, and straightens up. Without thinking, Otabek does the same. Watches the way the wind plays with the ends of Yuri’s hair. “So… I always told you about my crushes immediately… because I trusted you with everything. I’ve always trusted you with everything. You’re always there for me. I don’t… I don’t know where I would be without you in my life.” 

It’s the same for me, Otabek thinks. 

“But I haven’t been honest with you about everything recently. There’s been some stuff I thought you might look at me weirdly for saying, or not want to be friends with me anymore.”

It’s the same for me, Otabek thinks. 

“But Yuuri and Viktor told me I was being a pussy for not telling you, though they didn’t use that exact wording, so now I have to tell you because otherwise they’ll be right. And they’re stupider than we are. Which is impressive, because we’re pretty stupid.” 

Aren’t they?

Yuri stands in front of Otabek, the sun golden and pink and tinged with purple behind him, not a cloud in sight, the sea pulling and pushing at the sand on the beach endlessly. Seagulls caw. People chatter and laugh. Frisbees are caught, and frisbees fall on the sand. Bikes pass by on the paths behind them. The wind whistles past. Yuri is wearing a shirt with a tiger on it, and damp jean shorts. 

“So-” Yuri starts, voice wavering, before being instantly cut off. 

“I love you,” Otabek says. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. Not platonically. Romantic. Romantically, I mean. I love you, romantically.”

“Oh my god,” Yuri says. His eyes widen, his jaw drops, he inhales a breath and exhales a breath. “Oh my god, Beka, fuck you!” 

“...What?” Otabek blinks. This isn’t the response he was expecting. 

“Fuck you, I was about to say that!” Yuri glares down at Otabek, all squinty-eyed and pouty like he’s just lost a game of Smash. “I told you to shut up, and you said you would! Now Yuuri and Viktor are right about me being a pussy, cause telling you I love you after you’ve told me you love me is infinitely easier! You’re just damned me to being a pussy forevermore!” 

Otabek raises his eyebrows, unable to believe what he’s hearing. “We’re confessing our love to each other, and you’re more concerned about the fact Yuuri and Viktor are going to call you a pussy?”

Yuri crosses his arms across his chest, huffing dramatically. “Obviously! We’re both stupid and were convinced the other wouldn’t love us back but clearly we’ve loved each other back for a century now!”

“There’s literally no way you thought that a minute ago,” Otabek counters. “You were hesitating so long on saying you love me. You were just as terrified of rejection as I was. You can only say that because we’ve both already confessed.”

“Stop using logic on me and apologize!” Yuri stomps his foot in the sand, voice on the wrong side of whiny. 

“You’re the worst,” Otabek says, and suddenly he can’t stop laughing. “We just told each other we love each other, and you’re demanding an apology from me.” 

It’s like standing on the edge of the tallest cliff in the world, finally gathering the courage to jump off, only to drift through the air instead of fall. Expecting to plunge down faster than anything, expecting his stomach to fall down to his feet, expecting to feel the wind against his face, only to just sort of… gently float. Like sinking down through water, or molasses. Otabek thinks he should be relieved, but he doesn’t really know why he expected anything else, thinking back on it. 

It’s Yuri. Of course it’s all going to work out fine. 

They love each other. 

There’s a beat of silence. Yuri’s arms fall down to his sides, and the glare works its way off his features. Just like Yuri. Using anger as a defence mechanism. He was just as terrified as Otabek- he said so himself. Getting angry right after they’ve confessed to each other makes it familiar, makes it easy. Just normal banter. Just like usual. 

“It’s really going to be just the same, isn’t it?” Otabek says, standing up from the log. Sand shifting under his feet. “Hanging out every day. Playing Smash, and Mariokart, and listening to music.”

“That’s what I want,” Yuri says, and he sounds so vulnerable now. No anger. No walls put up. Just pure and honest truth. Something that’s usually so hard for Yuri. “Except I was hoping for more. Like…”

“Cuddling? Kissing?” Otabek raises an eyebrow as Yuri, somehow, manages to turn more red. 

“Shut up! Stupid Beka, don’t put words in my mouth!” 

“I can’t believe this.” Otabek sighs, and Yuri actually manages to look concerned for a second. “All this, and you just want me for my body?”

“I hate you so much,” Yuri says after a beat. “I take it back. I don’t love you.”

Otabek laughs, and Yuri cracks after a minute and joins him. 

They talk, and it’s the same as always. Joking around. Playful insults. Honesty. Just… being together. 

As it turns out, they’re already pretty good at this whole “dating” thing. 

It’s basically what they’ve been doing this whole time, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of these scenes are straight up stolen from interactions between me and my gf lmao TY BABE ILU <3
> 
> also pls dont watch naruto if u havent. if u have please tell me everything u hate about sasuke and ill respond with everything i hate about sasuke and then we'll have made a life pact to die for each other!

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/grassepi) and my [twitter](https://twitter.com/its_hazelgrace) if you're interested, though I only really post on my twitter and mostly just reblog things on my tumblr. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!


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